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LovELL's library:^catalogue?« 



^v. 



12. 
13. 
14. 
15. 
16. 



1. ^yi»erion, by H. W. Lon off el low. .20 
X 0«tre-Mer, by H. W. Longfellow. 20 

3. The Happy Boy, by BjOrnson 10 

4. Ar^e, by Bj(>rn?on 10 

5. Frankenstein, bv Mrs. Shelley... 10 

6. The Last of the iMohicAns 20 

T. Clytje, by Joseph Hatton 20 

8. The Moonetoi.e, bv CoHiae, I"t 1.10 

9. The Moonstone bv Collins, P'tll. 10. 

10. Oliver Twist, by (iharlea Dickens. 20 

11. The Coming Bar'e. by LyttOn 10 

Leila, by Lord Lvtton!^ 10 

The Throe Spaniards, by Walker. 20 
TheTricks of the GreeksUnvciled.20 
L' Abbe Con Ptantln, byHal6vy..20 
Freckles, by R. F. Redclift'.. ..20 

17. The Dark Colleen, by Harriett Jay.20 

18. They Were MarricSl by Waller 

Besant and James Rice 10 

19. Seekers uf ter God, by i ^rrar 20 

The Spanish Nun, byDeQuinccy.lO 

The Green Mountain Bovs 20 

Fleurette, by Er??€ne Scribe 20 

Second T' , by Brou?hton.20 

The Nev i, by Collins.. 20 

2.5, Divorce, . , , .. ...uret Lee 20 

23. Life of Washington, by Henley., 20 

27. Social Etiquette, by Mrs. Savi'lle.lS 

28. Single Heart and Double Face.. 10 

29. Irene, by Carl Detlef 20 

30. Vice Versa, by F. Anstey 20 

31. Ernest Maltra vera, by LordLytton20 
The Haunted Housa and Calderon 

10 
20 

34. 800 Leagues on ihe Amazon 10 

85. The Cryptogram, by Jules Verne, 10 
."6. Life of Marion, by Horry 20 

37. Paul and Viigiuia 10 

38. Tale of Two Cities, by Dickens.. 20 

39. The Hermits, byKingsley 20 

40. An Adventure in Thule, and Mar- 

ringe of Moira Fergus, Black .10 

41. A Marriage in h igh Life 20 

42. Robin, by Mrs. Parr 20 

43. Two on a Tower,- by Thos. Hardy,20 

44. Rasselas, by Samuel JohnBon....l0 

45. Alice; or, the Mysteries, being 

Part II. of Krneet Maltra vers.. 20 
4fi. Duke of Kandos, by A. Mathey...£0 

47. Baron Munchausen 30 

48. A Princess of Thule, by Black.. 20 

46. The Secret Despatch, by Grant, 20 
60. Early Days of Christianity, by 

Canon Farrar. D D , Part I. . . .20 
%. Early DaysofChristianitv.Pt. 11.20 
51. Vicar of Wakefield, by GoldPmlth.lO 
B2. Progress und Pov-rty, by Henry 

George 20 

5S. The Spy, by Cooper 20 

54. Ea^t Lynne, br Mrs. Wood... 20 

55. AStrangeStory.byLord Lytton...20 

56. Adam Bede, by Eliot, Parti 15 

Adam Bede, Part II 15 

5>. The Golden Shaft, by Gibboa.. ..20 

58. Portia, by The Duchess 20 

69. Last Days of Pompeii, by Lytton..20 
60. The Two Duchesses, by Mathey. .20 
•I.Tom Brown's School Day* 20 



d^ the Courtier, by Lord Lytton.. 
33. John Halifax, by Misa Mulock. 



62 



1^ 



The Wooing O't, by Mra. Alex. 

' - -X ander. Part 1 15 

J The Wooing O't. Part 11 15 

G3. The Vendetta, by Balzac 20 

64. Hypatia.by Chas. Kingpley,P't 1 . 1 5 

Hypatia, by Kingsley, Part II. . . . 16 

65 Selma, by Mrs. J.G.Smith 15 

66. Margaret and her Bridesmaids. .20 
07. Horse Shoe Robinson, Part I 15 

Horse Shoe Robinson, Part II. . . 15 
CS. Gulliver's Travels, by Swift 20 

69. Amos Barton, bvGeorge Eiiot. . . 10 

70. The Berber, by W. E. Majo. ... .20 

71. Silas Mamer, "by George Eliot. . . 10 

72. The Queen of the County 20 

73. Life of Cromwell, by Hood... 15 

74. Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronti.20 

75. Child's Histoiy of England 20 

76. Molly Bawn, by The Duchess. . .20 

77. Pillone, bv William BergeOe 15 

78. Phyllis, by The Duchess 20 

79. Romola, by Geo. Eliot, Part I. . .15 
Romola, by Geo. Eliot, Part II. .15 

SO. Science in Short Chapters 20 

81. Zanoni, by LordLyiton 20 

82. A Daughter of Hcth 20 

TheRiiihtand Wrong ITpes of 

the Bible, R. Heber Newton.. J20 

Night and Morning. Pt. 1 15 

N!!:;ht and Morning. Part II 15 

Sh.indon Bells, by Wm. Black. .20 

Monica, by the I^tichess 10 

Heart and Science, by Collins. . .20 
The Golden Calf, by Braddon. . .20 
The Dean's Daughter 20 

90. Mrs. Geoffrey, by The Duchess.. 20 

91. Pickwick Papers, Part 1 20 

Pickwick Papers, Part 11. ;. 20 

92. Airy, Fairy Lilian, The Duchess. 20 

93. McLeod of Dare, by Wm. Black.20 

94. Tempest Tossed, by Tilton. P't I 20 
Tempest To88ed,byTilton. P't II 20 
Letters from High Latitudes, by . 

LordDufferin .20 

Gideon Fleyce, by Lucy 20 

India and Cey'on, by E. Hseckel . .20 

The Gyppy Oueen ". ' 20 

99. The Admiral's Ward ^ 20 

100. ^import, by E L. Bynner, P't I. .15 
Nimport. by E. L Bynner, Pt 11.15 

101. Harry Holbrooke 20 

102. Tritons, by E. L. Bynner, P't I ... 15 
Tritons, by E. L. Bynner, P t II. .16 

103. Let Nothing You Dismay, by 
Walter Besant r i. . . 10 

Lady Audley's Secret, by Miss 
M. E. Braddon 20 

Woman's Place To-day, by Mrs. 
Lillie Deverenx Blake 20 

DunaDan, by Kennedy, Partl. . .15 

Dunallan, by Kennedy, Part II. .15 

107. Housekeeping and Home-mak--^ 

' ing. by Marion. Harland. ... la 

108. No New Thing, by W. E. Norris.20 

109. The Spoopendyke Papers .'. . .20 

110. False Hopes, by Goldwin Smith.15 

111. Labor and Capital 20" 

112. Wanda, by Ouida, Part 1 15 

Wanda, by Ouida, Part II 15 



63. 

84. 

85. 

86. 
87. 
88. 
89. 



95. 

96. 

97. 

93. 



104. 
105. 
108. 



A TOUR 

* ^, u ^ T 



OF 



THE PEAIKIES 



BY 



WASHINGTON IRVING. 



NEW YORK: 
JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 

14 & i6 Vesey Street. 



r < 1 A- 



• » • 

• 
• • • 



)-Kd-"^y 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 



CHAPTER I. 

.HE PAWNEE HUNTING GROUNDS. —TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.— 
A COMMISSIONER. — A VIRTUOSO.— A SEEKER OF ADVENTURES. 
— A GIL BLAS OP THE FRONTIER. — A YOUNG MAN's ANTICIPA- 
TIONS OP PLEASURE. 

In the often vaunted regions of the Far West, several hun- 
dred miles beyond the Mississippi, extends a vast tract of un- 
inhabited country, where there is neither to be seen the log- 
house of the white man, nor the wigvram of the Indian. It 
consists of great grassy plains, interspersed with forests and 
groves, and clumps of trees, and watered hj the Arkansas, the 
grand Canadian, the Red River, and theii- tributary streams. 
Over these fertile and verdant wastes still roam the elk, the 
buffalo, and the wild horse, in all their native freedom. These, 
in fact, are the hunting grounds of the various tribes of tlio 
Far West. Hither repair the Osage, the Creek, the Dels ware 
and other tribes that have linked themselves with civilization, 
and live within the vicinity of the white settlements. Here 
resort also, the Pawnees, the Comanches, and other fierc<\ 
and as yet indei^endent tribes, the nomads of the pi-airies, or 
the inhabitants of the skirts of the Rocky Mountains. The 
regions I have mentioned form a debata-ble gi-ound of these 
warring and vindictive tribes ; none of them presume to erect 
a permanent liabitation within its borders. Their hunters 
and ''Braves" repair thither in numerous bodies during tlic 
season of game, throw up their transient hunting camps, con- 
sisting of light lowers covered with bark and skins, commit 
sad liavoc among the innumerable herds that graze the prairies, 
and having loaded themselves with vem;^on fivA buffalo moat, 
warily retire from the dangei-ous neigh])0?'hood. These expe- 
ditions partake, always, of a wmlike character: the hunters 



8 A TOUR OX TUK FRAIIUFJS. 

ai*e all armed for action, offensive and defensive, and are bound 
to incessant vigilance. Should they, in their excursions, meet 
the hunters of an adverse tribe, savage conflicts take place. 
Their encampments, too, are always subject to be surprised 
by wandering Avar parties, and their hunters, when scattei'ed 
in pursuit of game, to be captured or massacred by lurking 
foes. Mouldering skulls and skeletons, bleaching in some dark 
ravine, or near the traces of a hunting camp, occasionally mark 
the scene of a foregone act of blood, and let the wanderer know 
the dangerous nature of the region he is traversing. It is 
the purpoi-t of the following pages to narrate a month's ex- 
cursion to these noted hunting grounds, through a tract of 
country which had not as yet been explored by white men. 

It was early in October, 1832, that I arrived at Fort Gibsoii, 
a frontier post of the Far West, situated on the Neosho, or 
Qrand River, near its confluence with the Arkansas. I had 
been travelling for a month past, with a small party from St. 
Louis, up the banks of the Missouri, and along the frontier 
line of agencies and missions that extends from the Missouri 
to the Arkansas. Our party Avas headed by one of the Coifi- 
missioners appointed by the government of the United States, 
to superintend the settlement of the Indian tribes migrating 
from the east to the west of the Mississippi. In the discharge 
of his duties, he was thus visiting the various outposts of civili- 
zation. 

And here let me bear testimony to the merits of this worthy 
leader of our little band. He was a native of one of the towns 
of Connecticut, a man in whom a course of legal practice and 
pohtical life had not been able to vitiate an mnate simplicity 
and benevolence of heart. The greater part of his days had 
been joassed in thQ bosom of his family and the society of dea- 
cons, elders, and selectmen, on the peaceful banks of the Con- 
necticut; when suddenly he had been called to mount his 
steed, shoulder liis rifle, and mingle among stark hunters, 
backwoodsmen, and naked savages, on the trackless wilds of 
the Far West. 

Another of my fellow-travellers was Mr. L., an Englishman 
by birth, but descended from a foreign stock ; and who had aU 
the buoyancy and accommodating spirit of a native of the 
Continent. Having rambled over many countries, he had be- 
come, to a certain degree, a citizen of the world, easily adapt- 
ing himself to any change. He was a man of a thousand 
occupations; a botanist, a geologist, a hunter of beetles and 



.1 TOUR ON TILE rUAIUlIiS. 9 

Litterflies, a musical amateur, a sketcher of no mean preten- 
sions, in short, a complete virtuoso ; added to which, he was a 
very indefatigable, if not always a very successful, sportsman. 
Clever had a man more irons in the fire, and, consequently, 
never was man more busy nor more cheerful. 

My third fellow-traveller was one who had accompanied the 
former from Europe, and travelled with him as his Telema- 
chus ; being apt, like his prototype, to give occasional perplex- 
ity and disquiet to his Mentor. He was a young Swiss Count, 
scarce twenty-one years of age, fidl of talent and spirit, but 
galliard in the extreme, and prone to every kind of wild ad- 
venture. 

Having made this mention of my comrades, I must not pass 
over unnoticed, a personage of inferior rank, but of all-per- 
vading and prevalent importance: the squire, the groom, the 
cook, the tent man, in a word, the factotum, and, I may add, 
the universal meddler and mari^lot of our party. This was a 
little swarthy, meagre, French Creole, named Antoine, but 
familiarly dubbed Tonish : a kind of Gil Bias of the frontier, 
who had passed a scrambling hfe, sometimes among white 
men, sometimes among Indians ; sometimes in the employ ot 
traders, missionaries, and Indian agents ; sometimes mingling 
with the Osage hunters. We picked him up at St. Louis, near 
which he had a small farm, .an Indian wife, and a brood of 
half-blood children. According to liis own accoimt, however, 
he had a v/ife in eveiy tribe; in fact, if all this little vagabond 
said of himself were to be believed, he was without morals, 
without caste, without creed, without country, and even with- 
out language; for he spoke a jargon of mingled French, En- 
glish, and Osage. He was, withal, a notorious braggart, and a 
liar of tlie first water. It was amusing to hear him vapor and 
gasconade about his terrible exploits and hairbreadth escapes 
ill war and hunting. In the midst of his volubility, he was 
prone to be seized by a spasmodic gasping, as if the springs, 
of his jaws were suddenly unhinged ; but I am apt to think it 
was caused by some falsehood that stuck in his throat, for I 
generally remarked that hnmediateiy afterward there bolted 
forth a he of the first magnitude. 

Our route had been a x^leasant one, quartering ourselves, oc- 
casionally, at the widely separated establishments of the Indian 
nlissionaries, but in general camping out in the fine groves 
that border the streams, and sleeping under cover of a tent. 
During the latter part of our tour we had pressed forward, in 



;|() A TOT' 11 OX THE PRMRrKR. 

hopes of arriving in time at Fort G-ibson to accompany tho 
Osage hunters on their autuninal visit to the buffalo prairies. 
Indeed the imagination of the young Count had become com- 
pletely excited on the subject. The grand scenery and wild 
habits of the prairies had set his spirits madding, and the 
stories that httie Tonish told him of Indian braves and Indian 
beauties, of hunting buffaloes and catching vdld horses, had 
set him all agog for a dash into savage life. He Avas a bold 
and hard rider, and longed to be scouring the hunting grounds. 
It was amusing to hear his youthful anticipations of ah that 
he was to see, and do, and enjoy, when mingling among the 
Indians and participating in their hardy adventures ; and it 
was still more amusing to listen to the gasconadings of little 
Tonish, who volunteered to be his faithful squire in all his 
perilous undertakings; to teach him hov7 to catch the wild 
horse, bring' down the butlalo, emd win the smiles of Indian 
princesses; — "And if we can only get sight of a prairie on 
fire!" said the young Count — " By Gar, I'll set one on fire my- 
self !" cried the little Frencliraan. 



CHAPTER II. 



ANTICIPATIONS DISAPPOINTED. — NEW PLANS. —PREPARATIONS TO 
JOIN AN EXPLORING PARTY. — DEPARTURE FROM FORT GIBSON. 
— FORDING OF THE VERDIGRIS. — AN INDIAN CAVALIER. 

The anticipations of a young man are prone to meet with 
disappointment. Unfortunately for the Count's scheme of 
wild campaigning, before we reached the ^nd of our journey, 
we heard that the Osage hunters had set forth upon their ex- 
pedition to the buffalo groimds. The Count still determined, 
if possible, to follow on their track and overtake them, and for 
this purpose stopped short at the Osage Agency, a few miles 
distant from Fort Gibson, to make inquiries and preparations. 
His travelling companion, Mr. L., stopped with him; while the 
Commissioner and myself proceeded to Fort Gibson, followed 
by the faithful and veracious Tonish. I hinted to him his 
promises to follow the Count in his campaignings, but I found 
the little "varlet had a keen eye to self-mterest. He was aware 
that the Commissioner, from his official duties, would remain. 



A TO UK OX TJIE PRAIRIES. H 

for a long time in the country, and be likely to give him perma- 
nent employment, wliile the sojourn of the Count would be 
but transient. The gasconading of the little braggart was 
suddenly therefore at an end. He spake not another word to 
the young Count about Indians, buffaloes, and wild horses, 
but putting himself tacitly in the train of the Commissioner, 
jogged silently after us to the garrison. 

On arriving at the fort, however, a new chance presented 
• cself for a cruise on the prairies. We leamt that a comi^any 
of mounted rangers, or riilem.en, had departed but three days 
pre^aous to make a wide exploring tour from the Arkansas to 
the Red River, including a part of the Pawnee hunting groimds 
where no party of white men had as yet penetrated. Here, 
then, was an opportunity of ranging over those dangerous and 
interesting regions under the safeguard of a powerful escort ; 
for the Commissioner, in virtue of his office, could claim the 
service of this newly raised corps of riflemen, and the coiintr^y 
they were to exj^lore was destined for the settlement of some 
of the migrating tribes connected with his mission. 

Our plan was promptly formed and put into execution. A 
couple of Creek Indians were sent off express, by the com- 
mander of Fort Gibson, to overtake the rangers and bring 
them to a halt until the Commissioner and his party should 
be able to join them. As v/e should have a march of three 
or four days through a wild country before we could ovei'- 
take the company of rangers, an escort of fourteen mountei ■ 
riflemen, imder the command of a lieutenant, was assigned ue- 

We sent word to the young Count and Mr. L. at the Osagv 
Agency, of our new plan and prospects, and invited them to 
accompany us. The Count, however, could not forego the de- 
lights he had promised himself in mingling with absoiuteiy 
savage life. In reply, he agreed to keep with us untd we 
should come upon the trail of the Osage hunters, when it was 
his fixed resolve to strike off into the wilderness in pursuit of 
them ; and his faithful Mentor, though he grieved at the mad- 
ness of the scheme, was too stanch a friend to desert him. A 
general rendezvous of our party and escort was appointed, for 
the following morning, at the Agency. 

Ysfct now made all arrangements for prompt departure. Our 
baggage had hitherto been transported on a light wagon, but we 
were now to break our way through an untravelled country, 
cut up by 'rivers, ravines, and thickets, where a vehicle of the 
kind would be a complete impediment. We were to travel on 



J 2 A rOUR ON THE PJiAIlUES. 

horseback, in hunter's style, and with as httle encumbrance as 
possible. Our baggage, therefore, underwent a rigid and most 
abstemious reduction. A pair of saddle-bags, and those by no 
means cra^mmed, sufficed for each man's scanty wardrobe, and, 
with his great coat, were to be carried upon the steed he rode. 
The rest of the baggage was placed on pack-horses. Ea.cli 
one had a bear-skin and a couple of blankets for bedding, and 
thore was a tent to shelter us in case of sickness or bad 
weather. Vv^e took care to provide ourselves with flour, coffee, 
and sugar, together with a small supply of salt pork for emer- 
gencies ; for our main subsistence we were to depend upon the 
chase. 

Such of our horses as had not been tired out in our recent 
journey, were taken with us as pack-horses, or supernumera- 
ries; but as we were goiug on a long and rough tour, where 
there would be occasional hunting, and whore, in case of meet- 
ing with hostile savages, the safety of the rider might depend 
upon the goodness of his steed, we took care to be well 
mounted. I procured a stout silver-gray; somewhat rough, 
but stanch and powerful : and retained a hardy pony which I 
had hitherto ridden, and which, being somewhat jaded, was 
suffered to ramble along with the pack-horses, to be mounted 
• valy in case of emergency. 

All these arrangements being made, we left Fort Gibson, on 
the morning of the tenth of October, and crossing the river in 
front of it, set off for the rendezvous at the Agency. A ride of 
a few miles brought us to the ford of the Verdigris, a wild 
rocky scene overhung with forest trees. We descended to the 
bank of the river and crossed in straggling file, the horses 
stepping cautiously from rock to rock, and in a manner feelmg 
about for a foothold beneath the rusliing and brawling stream. 

Our little Frenchman, Tonish, brought up the rear with the 
pack-horses. He was in high glee, having experienced a kind 
of promotion. In our journey hitherto he had driven the 
wagon, which he seemed to consider a very inferior employ ; 
now he was master of the horse. 

He sat perched hke a monkey beliind the pack on one of the 
horses ; he sang, he shouted, he yelped hke an Indian, and ever 
and anon blasphemed the loitering pack-horses in his jargon of 
mingled French, English, and Osage, which not one of them 
could understand. 

As we were crossing the ford we saAv on the opposite shore a 
Creek Indian on horseback. He had paused to reconnoitre us 



.1 TOUR ON THE PRAIFdES. 13 

from the brow of a rock, and formed a picturesque object, in 
unison with the wild scenery around him. He wore a bright 
bkie hunting-shirt trimmed with sci^rlet fringe; a gayiy col- 
ored handkerchief was bound round his head something like a 
turban, wdth one end hanging down beside bis ear ; he held a 
long rifle in his hand, and looked like a wild Arab on the 
prowl. Our loquacious and ever-meddling little Frenchman 
called out to him m his Babylonish jargon, but the savage hav- 
ing satisfied liis curiosity tossed his hand in the air, turned the 
head of his steed, and galloping along the shore soon disap- 
peared among the trees. 



CHAPTER ni. 



AN INDIAN AGENCY. — RIFLEMEN. —OSAGES, CREEKS, TRAPPERS, 
DOGS, HORSES, HALF-BREEDS. — BEATTE, THE HUNTSMAN. 

Having crossed the ford, we soon reached the Osage Agency, 
where Col. Choteau has his offices and magazines, for the de- 
spatch of Indian affairs, and the distribution of presents and 
£3uppiies. It consisted of a few log houses on t\\Q banks of the 
ri\^er, and presented a motley frontier scene. Here was our 
escort awaiting our arrival : som.e were on hors< • ; lacls:, some on 
foot, some seated on the trunks of fallen tfees, some shooting 
at a mark. They were a heterogeneous crew; some in frock- 
coats made of green blankets; others in leathern hunting- 
shirts, but the most part in marvellously ill-cut garments, 
much the worse for wear, and evidently put on for rugged ser- 
vice. 

Near by these was a group of Osages : stately fellows ; stern 
and simple in garb and aspect. They wore no ornaments; 
their dress consisted merely of blankets, leggings, and mocca- 
sons. Their heads were bare ; their hair was cropped close, ex- 
cepting a bristhng ridge on the top, like the crest of a helmet, 
Vvdth a long scalp-lock hanging behind. They had fine Roman 
countenances, and broad deep chests ; and, as they generally 
wore their blankets wrapped round their loins, so as to leave 
the bust and arms bare, they looked hl?:e so many noble bronze 
figures. The Osages are the finest looking Indians I have ever 
seen in the West. They liave not yielded suificiently, as yet, to 



14 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

the influence of civilization to lay by their simple Indian garb, 
or to lose the habits of the hunter and the "wa?^rior ; and their 
poverty prevents their indulging in much luxury of apparel. 
" in contrast to these was a ga,yly dressed party of Creeks. 
There is something, at the first glance, quite oriental in the 
appearance of this tribe. They dress in calico hunting shirts, 
of various brilliant colors, decorated with bright frmges, and 
belted with broad girdles, embroidered with beads ; they have 
leggings of dressed deer skins, or of green or scarlet cloth, witli 
embroidered knee-bands and tassels ; their moccasons are fan- 
cifully wrought and ornamented, a.nd they wear gaudy hand- 
kerchiefs tastefully bound round their heads. 

Besides these, there was a sprinkling of trappers, huntere, 
hall-breeds, Creoles, negroes of every hue; and aU that other 
rab]:sle rout of nondescript beings that lieep about the fron- 
tiers, between civihzed and savage life, as those equivocal 
birds, the bats, hover about the confines of light and darkness. 

The little hamlet of the Agency was in a complete bustle; 
the blacksmith's shed, in particular, was a scene of prepara- 
tion ; a strapping negro was shoeing a horse ; two half-breeds 
were fabricating iron spoons in wliich to rnelt lead for bullets. 
An old trapper, is leathern hunting frock and moccasons, had 
placed his rifle against a work-bench, while he superintended 
the operation, and gossiped about his hunting exploits; 
several large dogs were lounging in and out of the shop, or 
sleeping in the sunshine, while a little cur, with head cocked 
on one side, and One ear erect, wa^s watching, with that curi- 
omij common to little dogs, the- process of shoeing the horse, 
as if studying the art, or waiting for his turn to bo shod. 

We found the Count and his companion, the Virtuoso, ready 
for the inarch. As they intended to overtake the Osages, and 
pass some time in hunting the buffalo and the wild horse, they 
had provided themselves accordingly; having, in addition to 
the steeds which they. used for travelling, others of prune 
quality, which were to be led when on the inarch, and onh^ to 
be mounted for the chane. 

They had, moreover, engaged the services of a young man 
named Ant cine, a half-breed of Frc-nch and Osage origin. He 
was to ):e a kind of Jack-of -ail-work ; to cook, to hunt, and to 
take care ol. the liorses; but he had a vehement propensity to 
do nothing, being one of the worthless brood engendered and 
brought up among the missions. He was, moreover, a little 
fipoiled 1)3' being really a ha^ndsome young fellow, an Adoni^•. ol 



.4 TOUR ON THE PRAIUIES. 15 

tlie frontier, and still woi*se by fancying himself highly con- 
nected, his sister being concubine to an opulent white trader ! 

I'or our oY/n parts, the Commissioner and myself Vvere de- 
sirous, before setting out, to procure another attendant Y\'ell 
Versed in woodcraft, who might serve us as a hunter ; for our 
little Frenchman vv^ould have his hands full when in camp, in 
cooking, and on the march, in taking care of the pack-horses. 
Such an one presented himself, or rather was recommended to 
us, in Pierre Beatte, a half-breed of French and Osage paren- 
tage. We were assured that he was acquainted with all parts 
of the country, having traversed it in all directions, both 
ill hunting and war parties ; that he would be of use both as 
guide a.nd interpreter, and that he was a first-rate hunter. 

I confess I did not like his looks when he was first presented 
to me. He was lounging about, in an old hunting frock and 
metasses or leggings, of deer skin, soiled and greased, and 
almost japanned by constant use. He was apparently about 
thirty-six years of age, square and strongly built. His fea- 
tures were not bad, being shaped not unlike those of Napo- 
leon, but sharpened up, with high Indian cheek-bones. 

Perhaps the dusky greenish hue of his complexion, aided his 
resemblance to an old bronze bust I had seen of the Emperor. 
He had, however, a sullen, saturnine expression, set oif by a 
slouched woollen hat, and eK locks that hung about his ears. 

Such was the appearance of the man, and his manners were 
equally unprepossessing. He was cold and laconic ; made no 
promises or professions ; stated the terms he required for the 
services of himself and liis horse, which we thought rathei' 
high, but showed no disposition to abate them, nor an7y' 
anxiety to secure our employ. He had altogether more of 
the red than the white man in his composition ; and, as I had 
been taught to look upon all half-breeds with distrust, as an 
uncertain and faithless race, I would gladly have dispensed 
with the services of Pierre Beatte. We had no time, however, 
to look out for any one more to our taste, and had to make ^w 
arrangement with him on the spot. He then set about making 
his preparations for the journey, promising to join us at our 
evening's encampment. 

One thing was yet wanting to fit me out for the Prairies— a 
thoroughly trustworthy steed : I was not yet mounted to my 
mind. The gray I had bought, though strong and serviceable, 
was j'ough. At the last raonient I succeeded in gettijig on 
excellent animal: a darlc bay: iJO-wf-rrnl. vcliv*; '^onerous- 



1(3 A TOUR ON THE PEAIBIES. 

spirited, and in capital condition. I mounted him with exul- 
tation, and transferred the silver gray to Tonish, who was in 
such ecstasies at finding himself so completely en Cavalier, 
that I feared he might realize the ancient and well-known pro- 
verb of " a beggar on horseback. " 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE DEPARTURE. 

^ The long-drawn notes of a bugle at length gave the signal 
for departure. The rangers filed off m a straggling line of 
march through the woods : we were soon on horseback and fol- 
lowing on'" but were detained by the irregularity of the pack- 
horses. They were unaccustomed to keep the Ime, and strag- 
gled from side to side among the thickets, in spite of all the 
posting and bedeviling of Tonish; who, mounted on his gal- 
lant gray, with a long rifle on his shoulder, w-orried after them, 
bestowing a superabundance of dry blows and curses. 

We soon, therefore, lost sight of our escort, but managed to 
keep on their track, thridding' lofty forests, and entangled 
thickets, and passing by Indian wigwams and negro huts, 
until toward dusk we arrived at a frontier farm-house, owned 
by a settler of the name of BerryhiU. It was situated on a 
hilb below wliich the rangers had encamped in a circular 
grove, on the ma^rgin of a stream. l/tThe master of the house 
received us civilly, but could offer us no accommodation, for 
sickness prevailed in his family. He appeared himself to be 
in no very thriving condition, for though bidky in frame, he 
had a sallow, unhealthy complexion, and a whiffling double 
voice, shifting abruptly from a treble to a thorough-bass. 

Finding his log house was a mere hospital, crowded with 
invalids, we ordered our tent to be pitched in the farm-yard. 

We had not been long encamped, when our recently engaged 
attendant, Beatte, the Osage half-breed, made his appearance. 
He came mounted on one horse and leading another, which 
seemed to be well packed ^vith supplies for the expedition. 
Be?<.tte was evidently an "old soldier," as to the art of taking 
care of himself and looking out for emergencies. Finding that 
he was in government employ, being engaged by the Commis- 



A TOUn ON THE PBAIIUES. 17 

sioner, he had drawn rations of flour and bacon, and put them 
up so as to be weather-proof. In addition to the horse for the 
road, and for ordinary service, which Avas a rough, hardy 
animal, he had another for hunting. This was of a mixed 
breed hke himself, being a cross of the domestic stock with the 
wild horse of the prairies ; and a noble steed it was, of generous 
spirit, fine action, and admirable bottom. He had taken care 
to have his horses well shod at the Agency. He came prepared 
at all points for war or hunting : his rifle on his shoulder, his 
powder-horn and bullet-pouch at his side, his hunting-knife 
stuck in his belt, and coils of cordage at his saddle bow, which 
we were told were lariats, or noosed cords, used in catching the 
wild horse. 

Thus equipped and provided, an Indian hunter on a prairie is 
like a cruiser on the ocean, perfectly independent of the world, 
and competent to self-protection and self -maintenance. He 
can cast himself loose from every one, shape his own course, 
and take care of his own fortunes. I thought Beatte seemed to 
feel his independence, and to consider himself superior to us 
all, now that we were launching into the ^vilderness. He 
maintained a half proud, half sullen look, and great taciturnity, 
and his first care was to unpack his horses and put them in 
safe quarters for the night. His whole demeanor was in per- 
fect contrast to our vaporing, chattering, bustling little French- 
man. The latter, too, seemed jealous of this new-comer. He 
whispered to us that these half-breeds were a touchy, capri- 
cious people, little to be depended upon. That Beatte had 
e\^dently come prepared to take care of himseK, and that, at 
any moment in the course of our tour, he would be liable to 
take some sudden disgust or affront, and abandon us at a 
moment's warning : having the means of shifting for himself, 
and being perfectly at home on the prairies. 



CHAPTER V. 



FRONTIER SCENES. — A LYCURGUS OF THE BORDER. — LYNCH's LAW. 
— THE DANGER OF FINDING A HORSE. — THE YOUNG OSAGE. 

On the following morning (October 11), we were on the 
march by half -past seven o'clock, and rode through deep rich 
bottoms of allu^dal soil, overgrown with redundant vegetation, 



18 -i TOUR OF THE PliAUUES. 

and trees of an enormous size. Our route lay parallel to the 
'WQ^t bank of the Arkansas, on the borders of which river, near 
the confluence of the Eed Fork, we expected to overtake the 
mam body of rangers. ' For some miles the country was 
sprmkied witli Creek villages and farm-houses ; the inhabitants 
of which Ocppeared to have adopted, with considerable facility, 
the rudiments of civihzation, and to have thriven in con- 
sequence. Their farms were well stocked, and their hou.-;'- 
had a look of comfort and abundance. 

We met v/ith numbers of then\ returning from one of the:;.* 
grand games of bail, for which their nation is celebrcited. 
Some were on foot, some on horseback; the latter, occasion- 
ally, with gayly dressed females behind them. They ai'o a 
well-made race, muscular and closely knit, with well-turned 
thighs and legs. They have a gypsy fondness for brilliant 
colors and gay decorations, and are bright and fanciful objects 
when seen at a distance on the prairies. One had a scarlet 
handkerchief bound round his head, suranounted vdih. a tuft of 
black feathers like a cocktail. Another had a white handker- 
chief, with red feathers; while a third, for want of a plume, 
had stuck in his turban a brilliant bunch of sumach. 

On the verge of the wilderness Ave j)aused to inc|uirc our 
\v3:j at a log house, owned by a white settler or squatter, n 
tall i*aw-boned old fellow, with red hair, a lank lantern visag -, 
and an inveterate habit of winking with one eye, as if evor}-- 
thing he said was of knowing import. He Avas in a towering 
passion. One of his horses was missing; he was sure it had 
been stolen in the night by a straggling party of Osages 
encamped in a neighboring swamp ; but he would have satis- 
faction I lie would make an example of the villains. He had 
accordingly caught doAvn his rifle from the wall, that invariable 
enforcer of right or wrong upon the frontiers, and. haAdng 
saddled his steed, was about to &vCAj forth on a foray Into the 
swamp: while a brother squatter, Avith rifle in hand, stood 
leady to accompany him. 

We endoa Adored to calm tho old campaignei' of the prairies, 
by suggesting that liis horse might have strayed into tlie 
neighbor Jug woods; but he had the frontier pro])er.sity to 
charge everything to the Indians, and nothing could dissuade 
itim from carrying fire and SAvord into the SAvamp. 

After riding a fcAv miles farther we lost the trail of the main 
"i. <vjy of rangers, and became perplexed by a variety of tracks 
made by the Indians and settlers. At length coming to r l'^^' 



A rOUn OF TlIK 7V.M7/.7A>'. |9 

house, inhabited by a white man, the very last on the frontier, 
we found that we had wandered from our true course. Taking 
us back for some distance, he again brought us to the right 
trail ; putting ourselves upon which, we took our final depar- 
ture, and launched into the broad wilderness. 

The tr^il kept on like a straggling footpath, over hill and 
^dale, thi ugh brush and brake, and tangled thicket, and open 
prairie. In traversing the wilds it is customary for a party 
either of horse or foot to follow each other in single file like the 
Indians; so that the leaders break tlie way for those vrho fol- 
low, and lessen their labor and fatigue. In this way, also, the 
nurnbei- of a party is concealed, the whole leaving but one 
narrow well-trampled track to mark their course. 

We had not long regained the trail, when, on emerging from 
a forest, we beheld our raw-boned, hard-wmking, hard-riding 
knight-errant of the frontier, descending the slope of a liiU, 
followed by his companion in arms. As he drew near to us, 
the gauntness of his figure and ruefulness of his aspect 
reminded me of the description of the hero of La Mancha, and 
he was equally bent on affairs of doughty enterprise, being 
about to penetrate the thickets of the perilous svramp, within 
wliich the enemy lay ensconced. 

While we were holding f\ parley with him on the slope of the 
hill, we descried an Osage on horseback issuing out of a skirt 
or wood about half a mile off, and leading a horse by a halter, 
l^he latter was immediately recognized by our hard-winking 
friend as the steed of which he was in quest. As the Osage 
drew near, I was stiiick with his appearance. He was about 
•lineteen or twenty years of age, but well grown, with the fin;' 
Kom.an countenance common to bis tribe, and as he rode with 
his blanket wrapped round his louis, his naked bust would 
have furnished a model for a statuary. He was mounted on a 
])eautiful piebald horse, a mottled white and brown, of tb-e 
wild breed of the prairies, decorated vvith a broad collar, from 
which hung in front a tuft of horsehair dyed of a bright 
scarlet. 

The j'outh rode slowly up to us with a frank open air, aiif] 
sigiiified by means of our interpreter Beatte. that the horse Iw 
was leading liad wandered to their camp, and h^ was novr on 
his way to conduct him back to his owner. 

I had expected to witness an expression of gratitude on the 
part of our hard -favored cavalier, but to my surprise the old 
lellow broke out into a furious passion. He declared that the 



20 A TOL:R OF THE PRAIRIES, 

Indians had carried off his horse in the night, with the inten- 
tion of bringing him home in the morning, and claiming a 
reward for finding iiim; a common practice, as he afiSrmed, 
among the Indians. He was, therefore, for tying the young 
Indian to a tree and giving him a sound lashing ; and was quite 
surprised at the burst of indignation which this novel mode of 
requiting a service drew from us. Such, however, i^ too often 
the administration of law on the frontier, " Lynch's law," as it 
is technically termed, in which the plaintiff is apt to be witness, 
jury, judge, and executioner, and the defendant to be convicted 
and punished on mere presumption; and in this way, I ara 
convinced, are 'occasioned man 3^ of those heart-burnings and 
resentments among the Indians, which lead to retaliation, and 
end in Indian wars. When I compared the open, noble coun- 
tenance and frank demeanor of the young Osage, Avith the sinis- 
ter visage and high-handed conduct of the frontiersman, I felt 
httle doubt on whose back a lash would be most meritoriously 
bestowed. i 

Being thus obliged to content liimself with the recovery of 
his horse, without the pleasure of flogging the finder, into the 
bargain the old Lycurgus, or rather Draco, of the frontier, set 
off growling on his retiu-n homeward, followed by his brother 
squatter. 

As for the youthful Osage, we were all prepossessed in. his 
favor; the young Count especially, with the sympathies 
proper to his age and incident to his character, had taken 
quite a fancy to hun. Nothing would suit but he must have 
the young Osage as a companion and squire in his expedition 
into the wilderness. The youth was easily tempted, and, 
with the prospect of a safe range over the buffalo prairies 
and the promise of a new blanket, he turned his bridle, left 
the swamp and the encampment of his friends behind him, 
and set off to follow the Count in his wanderings in quest 
of the Osage hunters. 

Such is the glorious independence of man in a savage state. 
Tliis youth, with his rifie, his blanket, and his horse, was ready 
at a moment's warning to rove the world ; he carried all his 
worldly effects with him, and in the absence of artificial wants, 
possessed the great secret of personal freedom. We of society- 
are slaves, not so much to others as to ourselves; our super, 
fluities are the chains that bind us, impeding every movement 
of our bodies and thwarting every impulse of our souls. Such, 
at least, were my sweculations at the time. thou.eh I am not 



A TOUR OF THE rilAIRIES. 21 

sure but that they took their tone from the enthusiasm of the 
young Count, who seemed more enchanted than ever with the 
wild chivah-y of the prairies, and talked of putting on the In- 
dian dress and adopting the Indian habits durmg the time he 
hoped to pass with the Osages. 



CHAPTER VI. 



TRAIL OF THE OSAGE HUNTERS.— DEPARTURE OF THE L.OUNT AND 
HIS PARTY. — A DESERTED WAR CAMP. — A VAGRANT DOG — THE 

ENCAMPMENT. , 

In the course of the morning the trail we were pursuing was 
crossed by another, which struck off through the forest to the 
west in a direct course for the Arkansas River. iBeatte, our 
hah-breed, after considering it for a moment, pronounced it the 
trail of the Osage hunters ; and that it must lead to the place 
where they had forded the river on their way to the hunting 
gi'ounds. 

Here then the young Count and his companion came to a halt 
and prepared to take leave of us. The most experienced fron 
tiersmen in the troop remonstrated on the hazard of the under- 
taking. They were about to throTv themselves loose in the 
wilderness, with no other guides, guards, or attendants, thaii 
a young ignorant half-breed, and a still younger Indian. They 
were embarrassed by a pack-horse and two led horses, with 
which they would have to make their way through matted 
forests, and across rivers and morasses. The Osages and Paw- 
nees were at war, and they might fall in vvn'th some warrior 
part\^ of the latter, who are ferocious foes ; besides, their small 
number, and their valuable horses, would form a great temp- 
tation to some of the straggling bands of Osages loitering 
about the frontier, who might rob them of their horses in 
the night, and leave them destitute and on foot in the midst 
of the prairies. 

Nothing, however, could restrain the romantic ardor of the 
Count for a campaign of buffalo hunting with the Osages, and 
he had a game spirit that seemed always stimulated by the idea 
of danger. His travelling companion, of discreeter age and 
calmer temperament, was convinced of the rashness of the 
enterprise ; but he could not control the impetuous zeal of his 



2-2 A TOUR OF THE PJIAIRTICS. 

youtliiul friend, and lie was too loyal to leave him to x:)ursue Iiis 
hazardous sclieme alone. To our great regret, therefore, we 
saw them a^bandon the protection of our escort, and strike off 
on their hap-hazard expedition. The old hunters of our party 
shook their heads, and our half-breed, Beatte, predicted all 
tdnds of trouble to them : my only hope was, that they wouJd 
soon meet with perplexiti c^nough to cool the impetuosity ot: 
the young Count, and induce him to rejoin us. With this idcLi 
we travelled slowly, and made a considerable halt at ncun. 
After resuming our march, we came in sight of the Arkansas, 
It presented a broad and rapid stream, bordered by a beach of 
fine sand, overgrown with willows and cottonwood-trees. 
Beyond the river, the eye wandered over a beautiful champaign 
country, of flowery plains and sloping uplands, diversified bj 
groves and clumps of trees, and long screens of woodland ; the 
whole wearing the aspect of complete, and even ornamental 
cultivation, instead of native wildness. Not far from the river, 
on an open eminence, we passed through the recently deserted 
camping place of an Osage war party. The frames of the tents 
or wigwams remained, consisting of poles bent into an arch, 
with each end stuck into the gTOund: these are intertwined 
with twigs and branches, and covered with bark and skins. 
Those experienced in Indian lore, can ascertain the tribe, and 
whether on a hunting or a warlike expedition, by the shape 
and disposition of the wigwams. Beatte pointed out to us, in 
the present skeleton camp, the wigwam in ^vhich the chief ^^ 
had held their consultations around the council-fire: and an 
open area, well trampled down, on w^hich the grand war-dance 
had been performied. 

Pursuing our journey, as we were passing through a forest, 
we were met by a forloi'n, half-famished dog, wiio came ram- 
bling along the trail, with inflamed ejcs, and bewildered look. 
Though nearly trampled upon by the foremost rangers, he 
took notice of no one, but rambled heedlessly among th> 
horses. The cry of "mad dog" v\^as hnmediately raised, i-iid 
one of the rangers levelled his rifle, but was stayed by tho 
ever-ready humanity of the CoiniD.issioner. "He is blind;'" 
said he. "It is the dog of some pooi' Indian, following hir 
master by the scent. It would be a. shame to kill so faithful 
an animal." The ranger shouldered his rifle, the dog blun- 
dered blindly through the cavalcade unhuj-t. ;nid keephig 
his nose to the ground, continued Ms course aioi7g the ti'ail, 
affordin)^ a rare instance of a dog gu:*^iving a bad name. 



A TOUR OF Till': PliAIRJKS. o;-^ 

About three o'clock, vv-e came to a recent camping-place of 
the company of rangers : the brands of one of their fires were 
still smoking; so that, acv-Ording to the opinion of Bc::tte, they 
could not have passed on above a day previous!}'. As there 
xvas a hne stream of water close by, and plenty of ];;ea- vines 
for the horses, we encamped here for the night. 

We had not been here long, when we heard a halloo from a 
distance, and beheld the young Count and his party advancing 
through the forest. We welcomed them to the camp vdth 
heartfelt satisfaction; for their departure upon so hazardous 
an expedition had caused us great uneasiness. X short ex- 
periment had convinced them of the toil and difficulty of in- 
experienced travellers like themselves making their way 
through the wilderness with such a train of horses, and such 
slender attendance. FortmiPvtely, they determined to rejoin 
us before night-fail ; one night's camping out might have cost 
them their horses. The Count had prevailed upon his protege 
and esquire, the young Osage, to continue with him, and still 
calculated upon achieving great exploits, with his assistance, 
on the buffalo prairies. 



CHAPTER VII. 

NEWS OF THE RANGERS. — THE COUNT AND HIS INDIAN SQUIRE. — 
HALT IN THE WOODS. — WOODLAND SCENE. — OSAGE VILLAGE. — 
OoAGE VISITORS AT OUR EVENING CAMP. 

In the morning early (October 12th), the two Creeks who 
had been sent express by the connnander of Fort Gibson, to 
stop the company of rangers, arrived at our encampment on 
their return. They had left the company encamped about 
fifty miles distant, in a fine place on the Arkansas, abound- 
ing in game, where they intended to await our arrival. This 
news spread animation throughout our party, and we set ou n 
< iji our march at suni-ise, with renewed spirit. 

In mounting our steeds, the young Osage attempted t<» 
throw a blanket upon his wild horse. The fine, sensible ani- 
mal took fright, reared and recoiled. The attitudes of the 
wild hon:e and the almost naked savage, ^rould have formed 
studies for a painter or a statuary. 

I ofteji pleased my.self in llic i.onrso o'i our. mprfa. with. 



24 A TOUll OF THE PRAIRIES. 

noticing the appearance of the young Count and his newly 
enlisted follower, as they rode before me. Never was preux 
chevalier better suited with an esquire. The Count was well 
mounted, and, as I have before observed, was a bold and 
graceful rider. He was fond, too, of caracoling his horse, 
and dashing about in the buoyancy of youthful spirits. Kis 
dress was a gay Indian hunting frock of dressed deer skin, set- 
ting well to the shape, dyed of a beautiful purple, and fanci- 
fully embroidered with silks of various colors; as if it had 
been the work of some Indian beauty, to decorate a favorite 
chief. With this he w^ore leathern pantaloons and moccasojis, 
a foraging cap, and a double-barrelled 'gun slimg by a bando- 
leer athwart his back: so that he w^as quite a picturesque 
figure as he managed gracefully liis spirited steed. 

The young Osage would ride close behind him on his wild and 
beautifully mottled horse, which wa.s decorated with crimson 
tufts of hair. He rode with his finely shaped head and bust 
naked ; his blanket being girt round his w^aist. He carried his 
rifle in cae hand, and managed his horse vrith the other, and 
seemed ready to dash off at a moment's warning, with his 
youthful leader, on any madcap foraj^ or scamper. The Count, 
with the sanguine anticipations of youth, promised himself 
manj^ hardy adventures and exploits in company with his 
youthful "brave," when we should get among the buffaloes, 
in the Pawnee hunting grounds. 

After riding some distance, we crossed a narrow, deep 
stream, upon a solid bridge, the remains of an old beaver dam ; 
the industrious community w^hich had constmcted it had al] 
been destroyed. Above us, a streaming flight of wild geese, 
high in the air, and making a vociferous noise, gave note of 
the waning year. 

x4.bout half past ten o'clock we made a halt in a forest, where 
there was abundance of the pea-vine. Here we turned the 
horses loose to gaze. A. fire was made, w^ater procured from 
an adjacent spring, and in a short time our little Frenchman, 
Tonish, had a pot of coffee prepared for our refreshment. 
While partakmg of it, we were joined by an old Osage, one 
of a small hunting party wdio had recently passed this way. 
He w^as in search of his horse, wdiich had wandered away, or 
been stolen. Our half-breed, Beatte, made a wry face on hear- 
ing of Osage hunters in this direction. ' ' UntU w^e pass those 
hunters," said he, "we shall see no buffaloes. Thej- frighten 
away every thing, like a prairie on fire." 



A TOUR OF THE PllAmiES. 95 

The morning repast being over, the party amused them- 
selves in various ways. Some shot with their rifles at a mark, 
others lay asleep half buried in the deep bed of foliage, with 
their heads resting on their saddles ; others gossiped round tlie 
fire at the foot of a tree, which sent up wreaths of blue smoke 
among the branches. The horses banqueted luxuriously on 
tlie pea-vines, and some lay down and rolled amongst them. 

'We were overshadowed by lofty trees, with straight, smooth 
r.runks, like stately columns ; and as the glancing rays of the 
sun shone through the transparent leaves, tinted with the 
many-colored hues of autumn, I was reminded of the effect 
of sunshine among the stained windows and clustering col- 
umns of a Gothic cathedral. Indeed there is a grandeur and 
solemnity in our spacious forests of the West, that awaken in 
me the same feeling I have experienced in those vast and 
venerable piles, and the sound of the wind sweeping through 
them, supplies occasionally the deep breathings of the organ. 

About noon the bugle sounded to horse, and we were again 
< ji the m-arch, hoping to arrive at the encampment of the 
rangers before night ; as the old Osage had assured us it was 
not above ten or twelve miles distant. In our course through 
a forest, we passed by a lonely pool, covered with the most 
magnificent water-lilies I had ever beheld ; among which sw^am 
several wood-ducks, one of the most beautiful of water-fowl, 
••■emarkable for the gracefulness and brilliancy of its plumage. 

After proceeding some distance farther, we came down upon 
the banks of the Arkansas, at a place where tracks of numel-- 
ous horses, all entering the water, showed where a party of 
Osage hunters had recently crossed the river on their way to 
the buffalo range. After letting our horses drink in the river, 
we continued along its bank for a space, and then across 
prairies, where we saw a distant smoke, which we hoped might 
proceed from the encampment of the rangers. Following 
what we supposed to be their trail, we came to a meadow in 
which were a number of horses grazing: they were not, how- 
ever, the horses of the troop. A little farther on, we reached a 
straggling Osage village, on the banks of the Arkansas. Our 
arrival created quite a sensation. A number of old men came 
forward and shook hands with us all severally; while the 
women and children huddled together in groups, staring at us 
wildly, chattering and laughing among themselves. We 
found that all the young men of the village had departed on a 
hunting expedition, leaving the women and children and old 



26 A TOUR OF THE PBAIRIES. 

men behind. Here the Commissioner made a speech from on 
horseback ; informing his hearers of the purport of his mission, 
to promote a general peace among the tribes of the West, and 
urging them to lay aside all warlike and bloodthirsty notions, 
and not to make any wanton attacks upon the Pawnees. 
This speech being interpreted by Beatte, seemed to have a 
most pacifying effect upon the multitude, who promised faith- 
fully that, as far as in them lay, the peace should not be 
dipjturbed ; and indeed then- age and sex gave some reason to 
L-rust that they would keep their word. 

Still hoping to reach the camp of the rangers before night- 
i'all, v/e pushed on until twilight, when we were obliged to 
halt on the borders of a ravine. The rangers bivouacked 
under trees, at the bottom of the dell, while we pitched 
our tent on a rock\' knoU near a running stream. The night 
came on dark and overcast, with flying clouds, and much 
appearance of rain. The fires of the rangers burnt brightly 
in the dell, and threw strong masses of light upon the robber- 
looking groups that vvrere cooking, eating, and drinking around 
them. To add to the wildness of the scene, several Osage 
Indians, visitors from the village we had passed, were mingled 
among the men. Three of them came and seated themselves 
by our fire. They watched every thing that was going on 
around them in silence, and looked like figures of monumental 
bronze. We gave them food, and, what they most relished, 
coffee; for the Indians partake in the universal fondness for 
this beverage, which pervades the West. W^hen they had 
made their supper, they stretched themselves, side by side, 
before the fire, and began a lov.- nasal chant, drumming with 
their hands upon their breasts, by way of accompaniment. 
Their chant seemed to consist of regular staves, every one ter- 
minating, not m a melodious cadence, but in the abrupt in- 
terjection huh ! uttered almost like a hiccup. This chant, we 
were told by our interpreter, Beatte, related to ourselves, our 
appearance, our treatment of them, and all that they knew of 
our plans. In one part they spoke of the young Count, whose 
rinimated character and eagerness for Inclian enterprise had 
struck their fancy, and they indulged in some waggery about 
hhn and the young Indian beauties, that produced great mer- 
riment among our half-breeds. 

Tliis mode of improvising is connncjn throughout the savage 
tribes: and in this way, with a few simple inflections of the 
^''.)ice, thev chant all their exploits in war and huntin^:, nnd 



.1 TO an uF Tin-: ruAHUKs. ^7 

occasionally indulge in a vein of comic humor and. dry satiic, 
to Yfhicli the Indians appear to me much more prone than is 
generally imagmed. 

In fact, the Indians that I have had an opportunity of seeing 
in real life are quite different from those described in poetiy. 
They are by no means the stoics that they are represented; 
taciturn, unbendmg, without a tear or a smile. Taciturn they 
are, it is true, when in company Y\dth white men, whose good- 
will they distrust, and who.se language they do not understand ; 
but the white man is equally taciturn under like circumstances. 
When the Indians are among themselves, hoAvever, there 
cannot be greater gossips. Half their time is taken up in 
talking over their adventures in war and hunting, and in tell- 
ing wliimsical stories. They are great raimics and buffoons, 
also, and entertain themselves excessively at the expense of 
the whites with whom they have associated, and who have 
supposed them impressed with profound respect for their 
grandeur and dignity. They are curious observers, noting 
every thing in silence, but with a keen and watchful eye; 
occasionally exchanging a glance or a grunt with each other, 
v/hen any thing particularly strii^es them: but reserving all 
comments until they are alone. Then it is that they give fail 
scope to criticism, satire, mimicry, and mirth. 

In the course of my journey along the frontier, I have had 
repeated opportunities of noticing their excitability and boister- 
ous merriment at their games ; and have occasionally noticed 
a group of Osagcs sitting round a. fire until a late hour of the 
night, engaged in the most animated and hvehf conversation ; 
and at times making the woods resound with peals of laugliter. 
As to tears, they have them in abundance, both real and 
affected ; a;t times thej- make a merit of them. No one weeps 
more,bitterly or profusely at the death of a relative or friend : 
and they have stated times when they i-epair to howl and 
lament at their graves. I have heard doleful wailings at day- 
break, in the neighboring Indian villages, made by som.e of 'iiw 
inhabitants, who go out at that hour into the fields, to mourri 
and v/eep for the dead : at sucli times, I am told, the tears ^^'ill 
stream dovm their cheeks in torrents. 

x\s far as I can judge, the Indian of poetical fiction is like the 
shepherd of pastoral romance, a mere personification of imagi- 
nary attributes. 

The nasal chant of our Osage fiiiests gradually died away ; 
thev covered tli^ir heads witli their blankets and fell fast 



28 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

asleep, and in a little while all was silent, except the pattering 
of scattered rain- drops uj^on our tent. 

In the morning onr Indian visitors breakfasted with us, but 
the young. Osage who was to act as esquire to the Count in his 
knight-errantry on the prairies, was nowhere to be foimd. 
His wild horse, too, was missing, and, after many conjectures, 
we came to the conclusion that he had taken "Indian leave" of 
U3 in the night. We after Avards ascertained that he had been 
pei'suaded so to do by the Osages we had recently met with ; 
who had represented to him the perils that would attend him 
in an expedition to the Pawnee hunting grounds, where he 
might fali into the hands of the implacable enemies of his 
tribe; and, what was scarcely less to be apprehended, the 
amioyances to which he would be subjected from the capri- 
cious and overbearing conduct of the white men; who, as I 
have witnessed in my own short experience, are prone to treat 
the poor Indians as little better than brute animals. Indeed, 
he had had a specimen of it himself in the narrow escape he 
made from the infliction of " Lynch's law," by the hard- 
winking worthy of the frontier, for the flagitious crime of 
finding a stray horse. 

The disappearance of the youth was generally regretted by 
our party, for we had all taken a great fancy to him from his 
handsome, frank, and manly appearance, and the easy gi'ace 
of his deportment. He was indeed a native-born gentleman. 
By none, however, was he so much lamented as by the young 
Count, who thus suddenly found himself deprived of his 
esquire. I regretted the departure of the Osage for his own 
sake, for we should have cherished hun throughout the expe- 
dition, and I am convinced, from the munificent spirit of his 
patron, lie would have returned to his tribe laden with wealth 
of beads and trinkets and Indian blankets. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE HONEY CAMP. 

The weather, which had been rainy in the night, having 
held up, we resumed our march at seven o'clock in the morn- 
ing, in confident hope of soon arriving at the encampment of 
the rangers. Wo had not ridden above three or four miles 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 29 

when we came to a large tree which had recently been felled 
by an axe, for the wild honey contained in the hollow of its 
trunk, several broken flakes of which still remained. We 
now felt sure that the camp could not be far distant. About a 
couple of miles further some of the rangers set up a shout, and 
pointed to a number of horses grazing in a woody bottom. A 
few paces brought us to the brow of an eleva,ted ridge, wlienco 
we looked down upon the encampment. It was a wild bandit. 
or Robin Hood, scene. In a beautiful open forest, traversed by 
a running stream, were booths of bark and branches, and tents 
of blankets, temporary shelters from the recent rain, for the 
rangers commonly bivoua,c in the open air. There were groups 
of rangers in every kind of uncouth garb. Some were cooking 
at large fires made at the feet of trees ; som e were stretching 
and dressing deer skins ; some were shooting at a mark, and 
some lymg about on the grass. Venison jerked, and hung on 
frames, was drying over the embers in one place ; in another 
Iny carcasses recently brought in by the hunters. Stacks of 

ifles were leaning against the trunks of the trees, and saddles, 
bridles, and powder-horns hanging above them, vrliile the horses 
were grazing here and there among the thickets. 
Our arrival was greeted with acclamation. The rangers 

I'owded about their comrades to inquire the news from the 
^ort ; for our own part, we vv^ere received in frank simple hun- 
ter's style by Captain Bean, the commander of the company ; 
a man about forty years of age, vigorous and active. His lite 
had been chiefly passed on the frontier, occasionally in Indian 
warfare, so that he was a thorough woodsman, and a lirst-ratt- 
hunter. He was equipped in character; in leathern hunting 
shii't and leggings, and a leathern foraging cap. 

While we were conversing with the Captain, a veteran 
huntsman approached, whose whole appearance stmck me. 
He was of the middle size, but tough and v7eather-proved : a 
head partly bald and garnished with loose ii'on-gray locks, and 
a fine black eye, beaming with youthful spirit. His dress was 
similar to that of the Captam, a rifle shirt and leggings oi' 
dressed deer skin, that had evidently seen service ; a powdci- 
horn was slung by his side, a hunting-knife stuck in his l:>e]t. 
and in his hand was an ancient and trusty rifle, doubtless as 
dear to him as a bosom friend. He asked permission to go 
hunting, which was readily granted. "That's old Ryan," said 
the Captain, when he had gone ; "there's not a better hunter in 
the camp; he's sure to bring in game." 



HO A TOUn OF THIC PRAIRIKS. • 

In a little while our i3ack-horses :v.-ere unloaded and turned 
loose to revel among the pea-vines. Our tent was pitched ; our 
fire made ; the half of a deer had been sent to us from the Cap- 
tain's lodge ; Beatte brought in a couple of Y\'ild turkeys ; the 
spits were laden, and the camp-kettle crammed VvT.th meat ; and 
to cj'ovv^n our luxuries, a basin filled with great flakes of deh- 
cious honey, the spoils of a plundered bee-tree, was given us by 
one of the rangers. 

Our little Frenchman, Tonisli, was in an ecstasy, and tuck- 
ing up his sleeves to the elbows, set to work to ma.ke a display 
of his culinary skill, on wliich he prided himself pvlmost as 
much as upon his hunting, his riding, and his warlike prowess. 



CHAPTER IX. 

A BEE HUNT. 



The beautiful forest in which we were encamped abounded in 
bee-trees : i hat is to say. trees in the decayed trunks of which 
wild bees iiad established their hives. It is surprising m what 
countless swarms the bees have overspread the Far West, within 
but a moderate number of years. The Indians consider them the 
harbi-Qger of the white man, as the buifalo is of the red man ; 
and say that, in proportion as the bee advances, the Indian 
and buiiaio retire. We are always accustomed to associate, 
the hum of the bee-hive wuth the farnihouse and flower-garden, 
and to consider those industrious little animals as comiected 
with the busy haunts of man, and I am told that the wild bee 
is seldom to be met with at any great distance from the fron- 
tier. They have been the heralds of civihzation, steadfastly 
preceding it as it advanced from the Atlantic borders, and 
some of the ancient settlers of the West pretend to give the 
very year when the honey-bee flrst crossed the Mississippi. 
The Indians with surprise found the mouldering trees of their 
forests suddenly teeming with ambrosial sweets, and nothing, 
I am told, can exceed the greedy relish T\^ith which they ban- 
quet for the first time upon this unbought luxury of the wilder- 
ness. 

At present the honey-bee swarms in myriads, in the noble 
groves and forests which skirt and intersect the prairies, and 
extend along the alluvial bottoms of the rivers. It seems to 



A rorii or Tiii-: /vm /////■>'. o,;j 

me as if these beautiful regions answer literally to the descrip- 
tion of the land of promise, ' ' a land fiovv-ing witli milk and 
honey;" tor the rich pasturage of the prairies is calculated to 
sustain herds of cattle as countless as the sands upon the sea- 
shore, while the flowers with which they are enamelled rend";- 
them a very paradise for the nectar-seeking bee. 

We had not been long in the camp when a party set out v.^ 
quest of a bee-tree ; and, being curious to witness the sport, i 
gladly accepted an invitation to accompany them. The party 
was headed by a veteran bee-hunter, a tall lank fellow in 
homespun garb that hung loosely about liis limbs, and a straw 
hat shaped not unlike a bee-hive ; a comrade, equally uncouth 
ill garb, and without a hat, straddled along at his heels, with a 
long rifle on his shoulder. To these succeeded half a dozen 
others, some with axes and some with rifles, for no one stirs 
fai' from the camp without his firearms, so as to be ready 
eithei" for wild deer or wild Indian. 

After proceeding some distance we came to an open glade 
on the skirts oi the forest. Here our leader halted, and then 
advanced quietly to a low bush, on the top of which I per- 
ceived a i3iece of honey-comb. This I fomid was the bait or 
lure for the wild bees. Several were humming about it, and 
diving into its cells. When they had laden themselves with 
honey, they would rise into the air, and dart ofl" in a straight 
line, almost mth the velocity of a bullet. The hunters 
watched attentively the course they took, and then set off in 
the same direction, stumbhng along over twisted roots and 
fallen trees, with their eyes turned up to the sky. In this way 
they traced tlie honey-laden bees to then* hive, in the hollow 
trunk of a blasted oak, whore, after buzzing about for a mo- 
ment, they entered a hole about sixty feet from the ground. 

Two of the bee-hunters now plied their axes vigorously at 
the foot of the tree to level it with the ground. The mere 
spectators and amateurs, in the meantime, drew off to a 
cautious distance, to be out of the way of the falling of the 
tree and the vengeance of its inmates. The jarring blows of 
the axe seemed to have no effect in alarming or disturbing this 
most industrious community. They continued to ply at their 
usual occupations, some arriving fuJl freighted into port, 
others sallj'ing forth on new expeditions, like so many mer- 
chantmen in a money-making metropolis, little suspicious of 
impending bankruptcy and downfall. Even a loud crack 
which announced the disrupture of the truiili. failed to divert 



32 A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

their attention from the intense pursuit of gain; at length 
down came the tree with a tremendous crash, bursting open 
from end to end, and displaying all the hoarded treasures of 
the conainonv/eaith. 

One of the hunters immediately ran up ^vith a wisp of 
hghted hay as a defence against the bees. The latter, how- 
ever, made no attack and sought no revenge; they seemed 
stupefied by the catastrophe and unsuspicious of its cause, and 
remained crawling and buzzing about the ruins without offer- 
ing us any molestation. Every one of the party now fell to, 
with spoon and hunting-knife, to scoop out the flakes of 
honey-comb with which the hollow trunk was stored. Some 
of them were of old date and a deep brown color, others were 
beautifully white, and the honey in their cells was almost 
limpid. Such of the combs as were entire v/ere placed in 
camp kettles to be conveyed to the encampment ; those which 
had been shivered in the fall were devoured upon the spot. 
Every stark bee-hunter was to be seen with a rich morsel in 
his hand, dripping about his fingers, and disappearing as 
rapidly as a cream tart before the holiday appetite of a school- 
boy. 

Nor Avas it the bee-hunters alone that profited by the down- 
fall of this industrious community ; as if the bees would carry 
through the similitude of their habits with those of laborious 
and gainful man, I beheld numbers from rival hives, arriving 
on eager wing, to enrich themselves with the ruins of their 
neighbors. These busied themselves as eagerly and cheerfully 
as so many wrecliers on an Indiaman that has been driven on 
shore ; plunging into the cells of the broken honey-combs, ban- 
queting greedily on the spoil, and then winging their way 
full-freighted to their homes. As to the poor proprietors of 
the ruin, they seemed to have no heart to do any thing, not 
even to taste the nectar that flowed around them ; but crawled 
backward and forward, in vacant desolation, as I have seen a 
poor fellow with his hands in his pockets, whistling vacantly 
and despondingly about the ruins of his house that had been 
burnt. 

It is difiiculfc to describe the bewilderment and confusion of 
the bees of the bankrupt hive who had been absent at the time 
of the catastrophe, and who arri\''. d from time to time, with 
full cargoes from abroad. At first they wheeled about in 
the air, in the place vv^here the fallen tree had once reared its 
head, astonished at finding it all a vacuum.. At length, as if 



A TOUR OF TlIK PRAIRIES. 33 

comprehending their disaster, they settled down in clusters on 
a dry branch of a neighboring tree, whence they seemed to 
contemplate the prostrate ruin, and to buzz forth doleful 
lamentations over the downfall of then" repubhc. It was a 
scene on which the " melancholy Jacques" might have moral- 
ized by the hour. 

We now abandoned the place, leaving much honey in the 
hollow of the tree. "It will aU be cleared off by varmint," 
said one of the rangers. "What vermin?" asked I. "Oh, 
bears, and skunks, and racoons, and 'possums. The bears is 
the knowingest varmint for finding out a bee-tree in the world. 
They'll gnaw for days together at the trunk till they make a 
hole big enough to get in their paws, and then they'll haul out 
honey, bees and all." 



CHAPTER X. 



AMUSEMENTS IN THE CAMP. — CONSULTATIONS. —HUNTERS' FARE 
AND FEASTING. — EVENING SCENES. — CAMP MELODY, — THE FATE 
OF AN AMATEUR OTv^L. 

On returning to the camp, we found it a scene of the great- 
est hilarity. Some of the rangei-s were shooting at a mark, 
others were lea,ping, wi^estling, and playing at prison bars. 
They were mostly young men, on their first expedition, in 
high health and vigor, and buoyant with anticipations ; and I 
can conceive nothing more likely to set the youthful blood 
into a flow, than a wild wood life of the kind, and the range of 
a magnificent wilderness, abounding with game, and fruitful 
of adventure. We send our youth abroad to grow luxurious 
and effeminate in Europe; it appears to me, that a previous 
tour on the prairies w^ould be more likely to produce that 
manliness, simplicity, and self-dependence, most in unison 
with our political institutions. 

While the young men were engaged in these boisterous 
amusements, a gi^aver set, composed of the Captain, the 
Doctor, and other sages and leaders of the camp, were seated 
or stretched out on the grass, round a frontier map, holding 
a consultation about our position, and the course v/e were to 
pursue. 

Our plan was to cross the Arkansas just above where the 
Red Fork falls into it, then to keep westerly, until we should 



34 >4 TOUR OF THE PRAIRIE'^. 

pass through a grand belt of oxjen forest, called the Cross 
Timber, which i-anges nearly north and Bouth from the 
Arkansas to Eed Eiver; after wliich, we were to keep n 
southerly course toward the latter river. 

Our half-breed, Beatte, being an experienced Osage hunter, 
was called into the consultation. "Have you ever hunted in 
this direction?^' said the Captain. "Yes," was the laconic 
reply. 

"Perhaps, then, you can tell us in which direction lies the 
Red Fork ?" 

' ' If you keep along j'onder, by the edge of the prairie, you 
will come to a bald hill, with a pile of stones upon it." 

"I have noticed that hill as I was hunting,'' said- the Gap- 
tain. 

' ' Well I those stones were set up by the Osages as a land- 
mark: from that spot you may have a sight of the Red 
Fork." 

"In that case," cried the Captain, "we shall reach the Red 
Fork to-morrow; then cross the Arkansas above it, into the 
Pawnee cormtry, and then in two days we shall crack buffalo 
]x)nes :" 

The idea of arriving at the adventurous hunting grounds of 
the Pawnees, and of coming upon the traces of the buffaloes, 
made every eye sparkle with animation. Our furthei' con- 
versation was interrupted by the shai*p report of a litle at no 
gi'eat distance from the camp. 

"That's old Ryan's rifle." exclaimed the Captain; "there's 
a buck down, I'll warrant !" Nor was he mistaken ; for, before 
long, the veteran ma.de his ap])earance, calling upon one of the 
younger rangers to return with him, and aid in bringing home 
the carcass. 

The surroimding country, in fact, abounded vvith game, so 
that the camp was overstocked with provisions, and, as no less 
than twenty bee-trees had been cut down m the ^n'cinity, every 
one revelled in luxury. With the wasteful prodigality of hun- 
ters, there was a continual feasting, and scarce any one put by 
provision for the morrow. The cooking was conducted in 
hunter's style: the meat wa.s stuck upon tapering spits of 
dogwood, which were thrust perpendicularly into the ground, 
so as to sustain the joint before the fire, where it was roawtod 
or broiled with all its juices retained m it va a iriaiiner that 
would have tickled tiie palate of the most experienced gour- 
mand. As much could not be said in favor of the bread. It 



A TOUR OF TllfC PILURIES. :ir) 

was little more thMii a paste made of flour and water, and fried 
like fritters, in iard ; though some adopted a ruder style, twist- 
ing it round the ends of sticks, and thus roasting it before the 
iire. In either way, I have found it extremely palatable on 
tiie prairies. No one knows the true relish of food until he has 
a hunter's api)etite. 

Before simset, we were svaninoned bj^ little Tonish to a 
fiumptuous repast. Blankets had been spread on the ground 
near to the fire, upon which we took our seats. A large dish, 
or bowl, made from the root of a maple tree, and which ^.ve 
had piu^chased at the Indian village, was placed on the ground 
before us, and into it were emptied the contents of one of the 
camp kettles, consisting of a wild turkey hashed, together with 
slices of bacon and lumps of dough. Beside it was placed 
another bowl of similar ware, containing an ample supply of 
fritters. After we had discussed tlie hash, two wooden spits, 
on which the ribs of a fat buck were broiling before the fire, 
were removed and planted in the ground before us, with a 
triumphant air, by little Tonish. Having no dishes, we had to 
proceed in hunter's style, cutting off strips a,nd slices with our 
hunting-knives, and dipping them in salt and pepper. To do 
justice to Tonish's cookery, however, and to the keen sauce of 
the prairies, never have I tasted venison so delicious. With 
all this, our beverage was cofiec, boiied in a camp kettle, 
sweetened with brown sugar, and drunk out of tin cups : and 
such was the style of our banqueting throughout this expedi- 
tion, whenever provisions were plenty, a,nd as long as flour 
and coffee and sugar held out. 

As the twilight thickened into night, the sentinels were 
marched 'forth to theu' stations around the camp; an indis- 
pensable precaution in a country infested by Indians. The 
encampment now presented a picturesque appearance. Camp 
fires were blazing and smoLildering here and there among the 
trees, with groups of rangers round them; some .ieated r 
lying on the ground, others standing in the ruddy glare of the 
flames, or in shadowy relief. At some of the fires there >* as 
much boisterous mirth, where peals of laughter vv^ei'e ningled 
with loud riba,ld jokes and uncouth exclanmtions ; for the 
troop was evidently a raw, undiscipline<l band, levied among 
the wild yourigT^ters of the frontier, v/ho had enlisted, some for 
the sake of roving adventure, and some for the purpose 0£ 
getting a knv)wledge of the couiitry. Many of them were tlio 
noighboL's of their ofiScers. and accustomed to regard ihvm 



i^ 



36 ^ TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

with the familiarity of equals and companions. None of them 
had any idea of the restraint and decorum of a camp, or 
ambition to acquire a, name for exactness in a profession in 
which they had no intention of continuing. 

While this boisterous merriment jjrevailed at some of the 
fires, there suddenly rose a strain of nasal melody from 
another, at which a choir of "vocahsts" were uniting their 
voices in a most lugubrious psalm tune. This was led by one 
of the lieutenants; a tall, spare iman, who we were informed 
had officiated as schoolmaster, singing-master, and occasionally 
as Methodist preacher, in one of the villages of the frontier. 
The chant rose solemnly and sadly in the night air, and 
reminded me of the description of similar canticles in the 
camps of the Covenanters ; and, indeed, ihe stra,nge medley of 
fiA'ures and faces and uncouth garbs, congregated together in 
our troop, would not have disgraced the banners of Praise-God 
Barebones. 

In one of the intervals of this nasal psalmody, an amateur 
owl, as if in competition, began his dreary hooting. Immedi- 
ately there Avas a cry throughout the camp of ' ' Charley's owl ! 
Charley's owl !" It seems this "obscure bird " had visited the 
camp every night, and had been fired at by one of the senti- 
nels, a haK-witted lad, named Charley; who, on being called 
up for firing when on duty, excused liimself by saying, that he 
understood owls made uncommonly good soup. 

One of the young rangers mimicked the cry of this bird of 
wisdom, who, with a simplicity little consonant with his 
character, came hovering within sight, and alighted on the 
nak^d branch of a tree, lit up by the blaze of our fire. The 
young Count immediately seized his fowling-piece, took fatal 
aim, and in a twinkling the poor bird of ill omen came flutter- 
ing to the ground. Charley was now called upon to niake and 
eat his dish of owl-soup, but declined, as he had not shot the 
bird. 

In the course of the evening, I paid a visit to the Captain's 
« fire. It was composed of huge trunks of trees, and of suffi- 
cient magnitude to roast a buifalo whole. Hero were a ni'm- 
ber of the prime hunters and leaders of the camp, some sitting, 
some standing, and others lying on skins or blankets before 
the fire, telling old frontier stories about hunting and Indian 
warfare. 

As the night advanced, we perceived above the trees to the 
west, a ruddy glow flushing up the sky. 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 37 

" That must be a prairie set on fire by the Osage hunters," 
said the Captain. 

"It is at the Red Fork," said Beatte, regarding the sky. 
" It seems but three miles distant, yet it perhaps is twenty." 

About half past eight o'clock, a beautiful pale Hght gradu- 
ally sprang up in the east, a precursor of the rising moon. 
Drawing off from the Captain's lodge, I now prepared for the 
night's repose. I had determined to abandon the shelter of 
the tent, and henceforth to bivouac like the rangers. A bear- 
skin spread at the foot of a tree was my bed, with a pair of 
saddle-bags for a pillow. Wrapping myself in blankets, I 
stretched myself on this hunter's couch, and soon fell into a 
sound and sweet sleep, from which I did not awake until the 
bugle sounded at daybreak. 



CHAPTER XI. 



BREAKING UP OF THE ENCAMPIMENT.— PICTURESQUE MARCH.— 
GAME.— CAMP SCENES. — TRIUMPH OF A YOUNG HUNTER. — ILL 
SUCCESS OF AN OLD HUNTER.— FOUL MURDER OF A POLECAT. 

October 14th. - At the signal note of the bugle, the sentineLs 
and patrols marched m from their stations around the camp 
and were dismissed. The rangers were roused from their 
night's repose, and soon a bustling scene took i:)lace. While 
some cut wood, made fires, and prepared the morning's meal, 
others struck their foul-weather shelters of blankets, and 
made every preparation for departure; whUe others dashed 
about, through brush and brake, catching the horses and lead- 
ing or driving them into camp. 

During all this bustle the forest rang with vfhoops, and 
shouts, and peals of laughter; when all had breakfasted, 
packed up their effects and camp equipage, and loaded the 
pack-horses, the bugle sounded to saddle and mount. By 
eight o'clock the whole troop set off in a long straggling line, 
with whoop and halloo, intermingled with many an oath at 
the loitering pack-horses, and in a little while the forest, which 
for several days had been the scene of such unwonted bustle 
imd uproar, relapsed into its primeval solitude and silence. 
\ It was a bright sunny morning, with a pure transparent 
atmosphere that seemed to bathe the very heart with glad- 



38 ^ TOUIi OF THE FRAIllIES. 

noss. Our inarch continued parallel to the Ai'kansas, through 
a rich and varied country; sometimes we had to break our 
way through alluvial bottoms matted with redundant vegeta- 
tion, where the gigantic trees were entangled with gi'ap-vines, 
hanging like cordage from their branches; sometimes wo 
coasted along sluggish brooks, whose feebly trickling current 
just served to hnk together a succession of glassy jdooIs, im- 
bedded like mirrors in the quiet bosom of the forest, reflecting 
its autumnal foliage, and patches of the clear blue sky. Some- 
times we scrambled up broken and rocky hills, from the sum- 
mits of which we had wide views stretching on one side over 
distant prairies diversified by groves and forests, and on the 
other ranging along a Hne of blue and shadowy hills beyond 
the waters of the Arkansas. j 

The appearance of our troop was suited to the country: 
stretching along in a Hne of upward of half a mile m leng-th, 
Tvdnding among brakes and bushes, and up and dov/n in the 
defiles of the hills, the men in every kind of uncouth garb, 
with long rifles on their shoulders, and mounted on horses of 
every color. The pack-horses, too, would incessantly wander 
from the line of march, to crop the surrounding herbage, and 
were banged and beaten back by Tonish and his half-breed 
compeers, with volleys of mongrel oaths. Every now and 
then the notes of the bugle, from the head of the column, 
^v-ould echo through the woodlands and along the hollow glens, 
summoning up stragglers, and announcing the line of march. 
The whole scene reminded me of the description given of bands 
of buccaneers penetrating the wilds of South America, on then- 
blundering expeditions against the Spanish settlements. 

At one time we passed through a luxuriant bottom or mea- 
dow bordered by thickets, where the tall grass was pressed 
down into numerous "deer beds," v/here those animals had 
couched the preceding night. Some oak trees also bore signs 
of halving been clambered by bears, in quest of acorns, the 
marks of their claws being visible in the bark. 

As we opened a glade of this sheltered meadow we beheld 
several deer bounding away in wild affright, until, having 
gained some distance, they would stop and gaze back, witli 
the curiosity common to this animal, at the strange intruders 
into their solitudes. Tliere was immediately a shai^) report 
of rifles in every direction, from the young huntsmen of the 
troop, but they were too eager to aim surely, and the deer, im- 
harmed, bounded away into the depths of the forest. ' 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 39 

In the course of our march we struck the JLrkansas, but 
found ourselves still below the Eed Fork, and, as the river 
made deep bends, we again left its banks and continued 
through the woods until nearly eight o'clock, when we en- 
camped in a beautifid basin bordered by a fine stream, and 
shaded by clumps of lofty oaks. 

The horses were now hobbled, that is to say, their fore legb 
were fettered with cords or leathern straps, so as to imi)ede 
their movements, and prevent their wandering from the camp. 
They were then turned loose to graze. A number of rangers, 
prime hunters, started off in different directions in search of 
game. There (vas no whooping nor laughing about the camp 
as in the morning ; all were either busy about the fires pre- 
paring the evening's repast, or reposing upon the grass. Shots 
were soon heard in various directions. After a time a hunts- 
man rode into the camp with the carcass of a. fine buck hang- 
ing across his horse. Shortly afterward came in a couple of 
stripling hunters on foot, one of whom bore on his shoulder-s 
the body of a doe. He was evident!}^ proud of his spoil, being 
probably one of his first achievements, though he and his com- 
panion were luuch bantered by their comrades, as young be- 
ginners who hunted in partnership. 

Just as the night set in, there was a gi'eat shouting at one 
end of the camp, and immediately afterward a body of young 
rangers came parading round the various fires, bearing one 
of their comrades in triumph on their shoulders. He had shot 
an elk for the first time in his life, and it was the first animal 
of the kind that had been killed on this expedition. The young 
huntsman, whose name v>as M'Lellan, was the hero of the 
camp for the night, and was the "father of the feast" into 
the bargain ; for portions of his elk were seen roasting at every 
fire. 

The other hunters returned without success. The Captain 
bad observed the tracks of a buffalo, which must have passed 
within a few da,ys, and had tracked a bear for some distance 
until the foot-prints had disappeared. He had seen an elk, 
too, on the banks of the Arkansas, which walked out on a 
sand-bar of the river, but before he could steal round through 
the bushes to get a shot, it had re-entered the woods. 

Our own hunter, Beatte, returned silent and sidky, from an 
imsuccessful himt. As yet he had brought us in nothing, and 
wo had depended for our supplies of venison upon the Gap- 
tain's mess< Beatte was evidently moiliified, for he looked 



40 ^4 TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

down with contempt upon the rangers, as raw and inexperi- 
enced woodsmen, but Httle skilled in hunting; they, on tho 
other hand, regarded Beatte with no very complacent eye, as 
one 01 an evil breed, and always spoke of him as "the In- 
dian. " 

Our httle Frenchman, Tonish, also, by his incessant boast- 
ing, and chattering, and gasconading, in his balderdashed dia- 
lect, had drawn upon hiniself the ridicule of many of the wagb 
of the troop, who amused themselves at his expense in a kind 
of raillery by no means remarkable for its dehcacy ; but the 
httle varlet was so completely fortified by vanity and self-con- 
ceit, that he was invulnerable to every joke. I must confess, 
however, that I felt a httle mortified at the sorry figure our 
i^tainers were making among these moss-troopers, of the fron- 
tier. Even our very equipments came in for a share of unpopu- 
larity, and I heard many sneers at the double-barreUed guns 
with which we were provided against smaller game ; the lads 
of the West holding "shot-guns," as they call them, iu great 
contempt, thinking grouse, partridges, and even wild turkeys 
a^ beneath their serious attention, and the rifle the only fire- 
arm worthy of a hunter. 

I was awakened before daj'break the next morning, by the 
mournful howling of a wolf, who was skulldng about the pur- 
lieus of the camp, attracted by the scent of venison. Scarcely 
had the first gray streak of dawn appeared, when a youngster 
cit one of the distant lodges, shaking off his sleep, crowed in 
imitation of a cock, with, a loud clear note and prolonged 
cadence, that would have done credit to the most veteran 
chanticleer. He was immediately answered from another 
(quarter, as if from a rival rooster. The chant was echoed 
from lodge to lodge, and followed by the cackhng of hens, 
quacking of ducks, gabbling of turkeys, and grunting of 
swine, until we seemed to have been transported into the 
midst of a farmyard, with all its inmates in full concert 
-iround us. 

After riding a short distance this morning, we came upon al 
well-worn Indian track, and following it, scrambled to the] 
sununit of a hill, whence we had a wide prospect over a coun-j 
try diversified by rocky ridges and waving lines of upland, i 
and enriched by groves and clumps of trees of varied tuft and 
foliage. At a distance to the west, to our great satisfaction, 
we beheld the Red Forl^ rolling its ruddy ciuTent to the Ar- 
kansas, and found that we were above the pomt of junction. 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 41 

We now descended and pushed forward, with much difficulty, 
through the rich alluvial bottom that borders the Arkansas. 
Here the trees were interwoven with grape-vines, forming a 
kind of cordage, from trunk to trunk and Mmb to limb ; there 
was a thick undergTOwth, also, of bush and bramble, and such 
an abundance of hops, fit for gathering, that it was difficult for 
our horses to force their way through. 

The soil was imprinted in many places with the tracks of j 
deer, and the claws of bears were to be traced on various trees. 
Every one was on the look-out in the hope of starting some 
game, when suddenly there was a bustle and a clamor in a 
distant part of the hue. A bear I a bear ! was the cry. We 
all pressed forward to be present at the sport, when to my 
infinite, though whimsical chagrin, I found it to be our two 
worthies, Beatte and Tonish, perpetrating a foul murder on a 
polecat, or skunk! The animal had ensconced itself beneath 
the trunk of a fallen tree, whence it kept up a vigorous defence 
in its i^eculiar style, until the surrounding forest was in a high 
state of fragrance. 

Gibes and jokes now broke out on all sides at the expense of 
the Indian hunter, and he was advised to wear the scalp of the 
skunk as the only trophy of his prowess. When they found, 
however, that he and Tonish were absolutely bent upon bearing 
off the carcass as a peculiar dainty, there was a universal 
expression of disgust ; and they were regarded as Httle better 
than cannibals. 

Mortified at this ignominious debut of our two hunters, I 
insisted upon their abandoning their prize and resuming their 
march. Beatte comphed with a dogged,* discontented air, and 
lagged behind muttering to himself. Tonish, however, with 
his usual buoyancy, consoled himself by vociferous eulogies on 
the richness and delicacy of a roasted polecat, which he swore 
was considered the daintiest of dishes by all experienced Indian 
gourmands. It was with difficulty I could silence his loqua- 
city by repeated and peremptory commands. A Frenchman's 
vivacity, however, if repressed in one way, will break out in 
another, and Tonish now eased off his spleen by bestowing 
voUeys of oatjis and dry blows on the pack-horses. I was 
likely to be no gainer in the end, by my opposition to the 
humors of these varlets, for after a time, Beatte, who had 
lagged behind, rode up to the head o* the line to resume his 
station as a guide, and I had the vexation to see the carcass of 
his prize, stripped of its skin, and looking like a fat sucking- 



42 A. TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 

pig, dangling behind his saddle. I made a solemn vow, how- 
ever, in secret, th^t our fire should not be disgraced by the 
cooking of that polecat. 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE CROSSING OF THE ARKANSAS- 

We had now arrived at the river, about a quarter of a mile 
above the junction of the Red Fork ; but the banks were steep 
and crumbhng, and the current was deep and rapid. It was 
impossible, therefore, to cross at this place ; and we resumed 
our painful course through the forest, dispatching Beatte aheaci, 
in search of a fording place. We had proceeded about a milf^ 
farther, when he rejoined us, bringing intelligence of a place 
hard by, where the river, for a great part of its breadth, was 
rendered f ordable by sand-bars, and the remainder might easily 
be swam by the horses. 

Here, then, Vv^e made a halt, -^ome of the rangers set to 
work vigorously with their axefe, felling trees on the edge or 
the river, wherewith to form rafts for the transportation of 
their baggage and camp equipage. Others patrolled the banks 
of the river farther up, in hopes of findmg a better fording 
place ; being unwilling to risk their horses in the deep channel. 

It was now that our worthies, Beatte and Tonish, had an 
opportunity of displaying their Indian adroitness and resource. 
At the Osage village which we had passed a day or two before. 
they had procured a dry buffalo skin. This was now produced ; 
.cords were passed through a number of small eyelet-holes with 
which it was bordered, and it was drawn up, until it formed a 
kind of deep trough. Sticks were then placed athwart it on 
the inside, to keep it in shape ; our camp equipage and a part 
of our baggage were placed within, and the singular bark was 
carried down the bank and set afloat. A cord was attached to 
the prow, which Beatte took between his teeth, and throwing 
liimself into the water, went ahead, towing the bark after him ; 
while Tonish followed behind, to keep it steady and to propel 
it. Part of the way they had foothold, and were enabled to 
wade, but in the main current they were obliged to swim. The 
whole way, they whooped and yelled in the Indian style, imtii 
they landed safely on the opposite shore. 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 48 

The Commissioner and myself were so well pleased with this 
Indian mode of ferriage, that we determined to trust ourselves 
in the buffalo hide. Our companions, the Count and Mr. L, , 
had proceeded with the horses, along the river bank, in search 
of a ford which some of the rangers had discovered, about a 
mile and a half distant. While we were waiting for the return 
of our ferryman, I hapjDened to cast my eyes upon a heap of 
luggage under a bush, and descried the sleek carcass of the 
polecat, snugly trussed up, and ready for roasting before the 
evening fire. I could not resist the temptation to plump it into 
the river, when it sunk to the bottom like a lump of lead ; and 
thus our lodge was relieved from the bad odor which this savory 
viand had thi-eatened to bring upon it. 

Our men having recrossed with their cockle-shell bark, it 
was drawn on shore, haK filled with saddles, saddlebags, and 
other luggage, amounting to a hundred weight; and being 
again placed in the water, I was invited to take my seat. It 
appeared to me pretty much hke the embarkation of the wise 
men of Gotham, who went to sea in a bowl : I stepped in, how- 
ever, without hesitation, though as cautiously as possible, and 
sat down on the top of the luggage, the margin of the hide 
sinking to within a hand's breadth of the water's edge. Rifles, 
fowling-pieces, and other articles of small bulk, were then 
handed in, until I protested against receiving any more freight. 
We then launched forth upon the stream, the bark being towed 
as before. 

It was with a sensation half serious, half comic, that I found 
myself thus afloat, on the skin of a buffalo, in the midst of a 
wild river, surrounded by wilderness, and towed along by a 
half salvage, whooping and yelling like a devil incarnate. To 
please the vanity of little Tonish, I discharged the double- 
barrelled gun, to the right and left, when in the centre of the 
stream. The report echoed along the woody shores, 8.nd was 
answered by shouts from some of the rangers, to the great 
exultation of the httle Frenchman, who took to liimself the 
whole glory of this Indian mode of navigation. 

Our voyage was accomplished happfly; the Commissionei" 
was ferried across with equal success, and all our effects were 
brought over in the same manner. Nothing could equal the 
vain-glorious vaporing of little Tonish, as he strutted about the 
shore, and exulted in his superior skill and knowledge, to the 
rangers. Beatte, however, kept his proud, saturnine look, 
without a smile. He had a vast contempt for the ignorance of 



44 ^ TOUR OF THE PRAIIUE8. 

the rangers, and felt that he had been undervalued by them. 
His only observation was, ' ' Dey now see de Indian good for 
someting, anyhow!" 

The broad, sandy shore where we had landed, was intersec- 
ted by innumerable tracks of elk, deer, bears, racoons, turkeys, 
and water-fowl. The river scenery at this place was beauti- 
fully diversified, presenting long, shining reaches, bordered 
by willows and cottonwood trees; rich bottoms, with lofty 
forests ; among which towered enormous plane trees, and the 
distance was closed in by high embowered promontories. The 
fohage had a yellow autumnal tint, which gave to th^ sunny 
landscape the golden tone of one of the landscapes of Claude 
Lorraine. There was animation given to the scene, by a raft 
of logs and branches, on which the Captain and his prime com- 
panion, the Doctor, were ferrying then' effects across the 
stream ; and by a long hne of rangers on horseback, fording 
the river obhquely, along a series of sand-bars, about a mile 
and a half distant. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

The Camp of the Glen. 

camp gossip. —pawnees and their habits. —a hunter's ad- 
venture.— horses found, and men lost. 

Being joined by the Captain and some of the rangers, we 
struck into the woods for about half a mile, and then entered a 
wild, rocky dell, bordered by two lofty ridges of limestone, 
which narrowed as Ave advanced, until they met and united; 
making almost an angle. Here a fine spring of water rose 
among the rocks, and fed a silver rill that ran the whole 
length of the dell, freshening the grass with which it was 
carpeted. 

In this rocky nook we encamped, among taU trees. The 
rangers gradually joined us, straggling through the forest 
singly or in groups ; some on horseback, some on foot, driving 
their horses before them, heavUy laden with baggage, some 
dripping wet, having fallen into the river; for they had ex- 
perienced much fatigue and trouble from the length of the 
ford, and the depth and rapidity of the stream. They looked 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 45 

not unlike banditti returning with their plunder, and the wild 
dell was a retreat worthy to receive them. The effect was 
heightened after dark, when the hght of the fires was cast upon 
rugged looking gi'oups of men and horses ; with baggage tum- 
bled in heaps, rifles piled against the trees, and saddles, 
bridles, and powder-horns hanging about their trunks. 

At the encampment w^e were joined by the young Count and 
his companion, and the young haK-breed, Antoine, who had 
all passed successfully by the ford. To my annoyance, how- 
ever, I discovered that both of my horses were missing. I had 
supposed them in the charge of Antoine ; but he, with charac- 
teristic carelessness, had paid no heed to them, and they had 
probably wandered from the line on the opposite side of the 
river. It w^as arranged that Beatte and Antoine should recross 
the river at an early hour of the morning, in search of them. 

A fat buck, and a number of wild turkeys being brought 
into the camp, we managed, with the addition of a cup of 
coffee, to make a comfortable supper ; after which I repaired 
to the Captain's lodge, which was a kind of council fire and 
uossiping place for the veterans of the camp. 

As we were conversing together, w^e observed, as on former 
1 ights, a dusky, red glow in the west, above the summits of 
the surrounding cliffs. It was again attributed to Indian fires 
on the prairies ; and supposed to be on the western side of the 
Arkansas. If so, it was thought they must be made by some 
party of Pa^vnees, as the Osage hunters seldom ventured in 
that quarter. Our half-breeds, however, pronounced them 
Osage fires; and that they were on the opposite side of the 
Arkansas. 

The conversation now turned upon the Pawnees, into whose 
hunting grounds we were about entering. There is always 
some wild untamed tribe of Indians, who form, for a time, the 
terror of a frontier, and about whom all kinds of fearful 
stories are told. Such, at present, was the case with the Paw^- 
nees, w^ho rove the regions between the Ai'kansas and the Red 
River, and the prairies of Texas. They were represented as 
admirable horsemen, and always on horseback; mounted on 
fleet and hardy steeds, the wild race of the prairies. With 
these they roam the great plains that extend about the Arkan- 
sas, the Red River, and through Texas, to the Rocky Moun- 
tains; sometimes engaged in hunting the deer and buffalo, 
sometimes in warlike and predatory expeditions ; for, hke their 
I counterparts, the sons of Ishmael, their hand is against every 



46 A TOUR OF THE PRAIBIEB, « 

one, and every one's hand against them. Some of them have 
no fixed habitation, but dwell in tents of skin, easily packed 
up and transported, so that they are here to-day, and away, no 
one knows where, to-morrov.^ 

One of the veteran hunters gave several anecdotes of theii- 
mode of fighting. Luckless, according to his accoimt, is the 
band of weary traders or hunters descried by them, in the 
midst of a prairie. Sometimes, they will steal upon them by 
stratagem, hanging with one leg over the saddle, aud their 
bodies concealed ; so that their troop at a distance has the ap- 
I)earance of a gang of wild horses. When they have thus 
gained sufficiently upon the enemy, they will suddenly raise 
themselves in their saddles, and come like a rushing blast, all 
fluttering with feathers, shaking their mantles, brandishing 
their weapons, and making hideous yells. In this way, they 
seek to strike a panic into the horses, and put them to the 
scamper, when they will pursue and carry them off in tri- 
umph. 

The best mode of defence, according to this vetern woods- 
man, is to get into the covert of some wood, or thicket ; or if 
there be none at hand, to dismount, \iQ the horses firmly head 
to head in a circle, so that they cannot break away and scatter, 
and resort to the shelter of a ravine, or make a hollow in the 
sand, where they may be screened from the shafts of the Paw- 
nees. The latter chiefly use the bow and arrow, and are dex- 
terous archers; circling round and round their enemy, and 
launching their arrows when at full speed. They are chiefly 
formidable on the prairies, where they have free career for 
their horses, and no trees to turn aside their arrows. They 
will rarely follow a flytng enemy into the forest. 

Several anecdotes, also, were given, of the secrecy and cau- 
tion with which they will follow, and hang about the camp of 
an enemy, seeking a favorable moment for plunder or attack. 

"We must now begin to keep a sharp look-out," said the 
Captain. "I must issue T\Titten orders, that no man shall 
hunt without leave, or fire off a gun, on pain of riding a wooden 
horse with a sharp back. I have a wild crew of young fellows, 
unaccustomed to frontier service. It will be diflScult to teach 
them caution. We are now in the land of a silent, watchful, 
crafty people, who, when we least suspect it, may be around 
us, spying out aU our movements, and ready to pounce upon all 
stragglers." 

" How will you be able to keep your men from firing, if they 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 47 

see game while strolling round the camp?" asked one of the 
rangers. 

' ' They must not take their guns with them unless they are 
on duty, or have permission. " 

*'Ah, Captain!" cried the ranger, "that will never do for 
me. Where I go, my rifle goes. I never Uke to leave it be- 
hind ; it's like a part of myself. There's no one will take such 
care of it as I, and there's nothing will take such care of me as 
my rifle." 

"There's truth in all that," said the Captain, touched by a 
true hunter s sympathy. ' '■ I've had my rifle pretty nigh as 
long as I have had my wife, and a faithful friend it has been 
to me." 

Here the Doctor, w^ho is as keen a hunter as the Captain, 
joined in the conversation: "A neighbor of mine says, next to 
my rifle, I'd as leave lend you my wife. " 

"There's few," observed the Captain, "that take care of 
their rifles as they ought to be taken care of." 

" Or of their wives either, " replied the Doctor, w4th a wink. 

" That's a fact," rejoined the Captain. 

Word was now brought that a party of four rangers, headed 
by ' ' Old Ryan, " were missing. They had separated from the 
main body, on the opposite side of the river, when searching 
for a ford, and had straggled off, nobody knew whither. 
Many conjectures were made about them, and some apprehen- 
sions expressed for their safety. 

"I should send to look after them," said the Captain, "but 
old Ryan is with them, and he knows how to take care of him- 
self and of them too. If it were not for him, I would not give 
much for the rest ; but he is as much at home in the woods or 
on a prairie as he would be in his own farmyard. He's never 
lost, wherever he is. There's a good gang of them to stand by 
one another ; four to watch and one to take care of the fire. " 

' ' It's a dismal thing to get lost at night in a strange and wild 
country, " said one of the younger rangers. 

' ' Not if you have one or two in company, " said an elder one. 
' ' For my part, I could feel as cheerful in this hollow as in my 
own home, if I had but one comrade to take turns to watch 
and keep the fire going. I could lie here for hours, and gaze 
up to that blazmg star there, that seems to look down into the 
camp as if it were keeping guard over it. " 

"Aye, the stars are a kind of company to one, when you 
have to keep watch alone. That's a cheerful star, too, some- 



48 ^ TOUR OF THE PRAIBIES. 

how ; that's the evening star, the planet Venus they call it, I 
think." 

" If that's the planet Venus," said one of the council, who, I 
believe, was the psalm-singing schoolmaster, ' ' it bodes us no 
good ; for I recollect i^eading in some book that the Pawnees 
worship that star, and sacrifice their prisoners to it. So I 
should not feel the better for the sight of that star in this part 
of the country." 

" Well," said the sergeant, a thorough-bred woodsman, "star 
or no star, I have passed many a night alone in a wilder place 
than this, and slept sound too, I'll warrant you. Once, how- 
ever, I had rather an uneasy time of it. I was belated in pass- 
ing through a tract of wood, near the Tombigbee Eiver ; so I 
struck a light, made a fire, and turned my horse loose, while 
I stretched myself to sleep. By and by, I heard the wolves 
howl. My horse came crowding near me for protection, for he 
was terribly frightened. I drove him off, but he returned, and 
drew nearer and nearer, and stood looking at me and at the 
fire, and dozing, and nodding, and tottering on his fore feet, 
for he was powerful tired. After a while, I heard a strange 
dismal cry. I thought at first it might be an owl. I heard it 
again, and then I knew it was not an owl, but must be a pan- 
ther. I felt rathey awkward, for I had no weapon but a 
double-bladed penknife. - I however prepared for defence in 
the best way I could, and piled up small hrands from the fire, 
to pepper him with, should he come nigh. The company of 
my horse now seemed a comfort to me ; the poor creature laid 
down beside me and soon fell asleep, being so tired. I kept 
watch, and nodded and dozed, and started awake, and looked 
round, expecting to see the glaring eyes of the panther close 
upon me ; but somehow or other, fatigue got the better of me, 
and I fell asleep outright. In the morning I found the tracks 
of a panther within sixty paces. They were as large as my 
two fists. He had evidently been walking backward and for- 
ward, trying to make up his mind to attack me ; but luckily, 
he had not courage." 

October 16th. — I awoke before daylight. The moon was 
yhinin^ feebly down into the glen, from among light drifting 
clouds ; the camp fires were nearly burnt out, and the men 
lying about them, wrapped in blankets. With the first streak 
of day, our huntsman, Beatte, with Antoine, the young half- 
breed, set off to recross the river, in search of the stray horses, 
in company with several rangers who had left their rifles on 



A TOUR OF THE PRAIRIES. 49 

the opposite shore. As the ford was deep, and they were 
obliged to cross in a diagonal line, against a rapid current, 
they Imd to be mounted on the tallest and strongest horses. 

By eight o'clock, Beatte returned. He had found the horses, 
but had lost Antoine. The latter, he said, was a boy, a green- 
horn, that knew nothing of the woods. He had wandered out 
of sight of him, and got lost. However, there were plenty 
more for Mm to fall in company with, as some of the rangei's 
had gone astray also, and old Ryan and his party had not 
returned. 

We waitod until the morning was somewhat advanced, in 
hopes of being rejoined by the stragglers, but they did not 
make their appearance. The Captain observed, that the 
Indians on the opposite side of the river, were all well dis- 
posed to the whites ; so that no serious apprehensions need be 
entertained for the safety of the missing. The gTeatest danger 
was, that their horses might be stolen in the night by strag- 
gling Osages. He determined, therefore, to proceed, leaving a 
rear guard in the camp, to await their arrival. 

I sat on a rock that overhung the spring at the upper part of 
the dell, and amused myself by watching the changing scene 
before me. First, the preparations for departure. Horses 
driven in from the purlieus of the camjD ; rangers riding about 
among rocks and bushes in quest of others that had strayed to 
a distance ; the bustle of packing up camp equipage, and the 
clamor after kettles and frying-pans borrowed by one mess 
from another, mixed up with oaths and exclamations at restive 
hoi*ses, or others that had wandered away to gi^aze after being 
packed, among which the voice of our little Frenchman, 
'"' nish^ was particularly to be distinguished. 

Hie bugle sounded the signal to mount and march. The 
troop filed off in irregular line down the glen, and through the 
open forest, winding and gradually disappearing among the 
trees, though the clamor of voices and the notes of the bugle 
could be heard for some time afterward. The rear-guard 
remained under the trees in the lower part of the del], some on 
horseback, with their rifles on their shoulders ; others seated 
by the fire or lying on the ground, gossiping in a low, lazy 
tone of voice, their horses unsaddled, standing and dozing 
around, while one of the rangers, profiting by this interval of 
leizui'e, was shaving hunself before a pocket mirror stuck 
against the trunk of a tree. 

The clamor of voices and the notes of the bugle at length 



:,() A Torn of the phairiks. 

died away, and the glen relapsed into quiet and silence, broken 
occasionally by the low murmuring tone of the group around 
the fire, or the pensive whistle of some laggard among the 
ti^es; or the rustling of ^ the yellow leaves, which the lightest 
breath of air brought down in wavermg showers, a sign of the 
departing glories of the year. 



CHAPTER XIV, 



DEER-SHOOTING.— LIFE ON THE PRAIRIES. — BEAUTIFUL ENCAMP- 
MENT. —HUNTER'S LUCK. — ANECDOTES OF THE DELA WARES AND 
THEIR SUPERSTITIONS. 

Having passed through the skirt of woodland bordering the 
river, we ascended the hilfe, taking a westerly course through 
an undulating country of "oak openings," where the eye 
stretched over wide tracts of hill and dale, diversified by for- 
ests, groves, and clumps of trees. As we were proceeding at a 
slow pace, those who were at tire head of the line descried 
four deer grazing on a gi'assy slope about half a mile distant. 
They apparently had not perceived our approach, and con- 
tinued to graze in perfect tranquillity. A young ranger ob- 
tained permission from the Captain to go in pursuit of them, 
and the troop halted in lengthened hne, watching him in 
silence. Walking his horse slowly and cautiously, he made a 
circuit until a screen of wood intervened between him and the 
deer. Dismounting then, he left his horse among the trees, 
and creeping round a knoll, was hidden from our view. We 
now kept our eyes intently fixed on the deer, which continued 
grazing, unconscious of their danger. Presently there was the 
sharp report of a rifle ; a fine buck made a convulsive bound 
and fell to the earth ; his companions scampered off. Inunedi- 
ately our whole line of march was broken; there was a helter- 
skelter galloping of the youngsters of the troop, eager to get a 
shot at the fugitives; and one of the most conspicuous person- 
ages in the chase was our little Frenchman Tonish, on his 
silver-gray ; having abandoned his pack-horses at the firet sight 
of the deer. It was some time before oui- scattered forces 
could be recalled by the bugle, and our march resumed. 

Two or three times in the course of the day we were inter- 
rupted by hurry-scurry scenes of the kind. The young men 



A TOUR ON TEE PBAIRII^S. 51 

of the troop were full of excitement on entering an unexplored 
country abounding in game, and they vvere too little accus- 
tomed to discipline or restraint to be kept in order. No one, 
however, was more unmanageable than Tonish. Having an 
intense conceit of his skill as a hunter, and an ii'repressible 
passion for display, he was continually sallying forth, like an 
ill-broken hound, whenever any game was started, and had as 
often to be whipped back. 

At length his curiosity got a salutary check. A fat doe 
rame bounding along in full view of the whole hne. Tonish 
dismounted, levelled his rifle, and had a fair shot. The doe 
kept on. He sprang upon his horse, stood up on the saddle hke 
a posture-master, and continued gazing after the animal as if 
certam to see it fall. The doe. however, kept on its v/ay 
rejoicing; a laugh broke out along the line, the little French- 
man slipped quietly into his saddle, began to belabor and blas- 
pheme the wandering pack-horses, as if they had been to blame, 
and for some time we were relieved from his vaunting and 
:\poring. 

In one place of our march we came to the remains of an old 
Indian encampment, on the banks of a fine stream, with the 
moss-gi'own skulip of deer lying her^ and there abor.t it. As 
we were in the Pawnee country, it was supposed, of course, to 
to have been a camp of those f oiniidable rovers ; the Doctor, 
however, after considering the shape and disposition of the 
lodges, pronounced it the camp of some bold Delawares, who 
had probably made a brief and dashing excursion into these 
dangerous hunting grounds. 

Having proceeded some distance farther, we observed a cou- 
ple of figures on horseback, slowly moving parallel to us along 
the edge of a naked hill about two miles distant ; and appar- 
ently reconnoitring us. There was a halt, and much gazing 
and conjecturing. Were they Indians? If Indians, were thej^ 
Pawnees? There is something exciting to the imagination and 
stirring to the- feelings, while traversing these hostile plains, in 
seeing a horseman prowling along the horizon. It is hke de- 
scrying a sail at sea in time of war, when it may be either a 
privateer or a pirate. Our conjectures were soon set at rest 
by reconnoitring the owo horsemen through a small spyglass, 
when they proved to be two of the men we had left at the 
camp, who had set out to rejoin us, and had wandered from 
the track. 

Our march this day was animating and delightful. We 



52 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. [ 

were in a region of adventure ; breaking our way through a 
country hitherto untrodden by white men, excepting perchance 
by some sohtary trapper. The weather was m its perfection, 
temperate, genial and enhvening ; a deep bhie sky with a few 
light feathery clouds, an atmosphere of perfect transparency, 
an air pure and bland, and a glorious country spreading out 
far and wide in the golden sunshine of an autumnal day ; but 
all silent, lifeless, without a human habitation, and apparently 
without a human inhabitant ! It was as if a ban hung over 
this fair but fated region. The very Indians dared not abide 
here, but made it a mere scene of perilous enterprise, to hunt 
for a few days, and then away. 

After a march of about fifteen miles west we encamped in a 
beautiful peninsula, made by the windings and doubhngs of a 
deep, clear, and almost motionless brook, and covered by an 
oi^en grove of lofty and magnificent trees. Several hunters 
immediately started forth in quest of game I efore the noise of 
the camp should frighten it from the vicinity. 0,ur man, 
Beatte, also took his- rifle and went forth alone, in a different 
com*se from the rest. 

For my own part, I lay on the grass under the trees, and 
built castles in the clouds, and indulged in the very luxury of 
rural repose. Indeed I can scarcely conceive a kind of Mfe 
more calculated to put both mind and body in a healthful tone. 
A morning's ride of several hours diversified by hunting inci- 
dents; an encampment in the afternoon under some noble 
grove on the borders of a stream ; an evening banqiiet of veni- 
son, fresh killed, roasted, or broiled on the coals; turkeys 
just from the thickets and wild honey from the trees ; and all 
relished wi^h an appetite unkno^vn to the gourmets of the cities. 
And at night— such sweet sleeping in the open air, or waking 
and gazing at the moon and stars, shining between the trees! 

On the present occasion, however, we had not much reason 
to boast of our larder. But one deer had been killed during the 
day, and none of that had reached our lodge. We were fain, 
therefore, to stay our keen appetites by some scraps of turkey 
brought from the last encampment, eked out with a slice or 
two of salt pork. This scarcity, however, did not continu(^ 
long. Before dark a young hunter returned weU laden with 
spoil. He had shot a deer, cut it up in an artist-like style, and, 
putting the meat in a kind of sack made of the hide, had slung 
it across his shoulder and trudged with it to camp. 

Not long after, Beatte made his appearance with a fat doe 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. i 53 

across his horse. It was the first game he had brought in, and 
I was giad to see him with a trophy that might efface the 
memory of the polecat. He laid the carcass down by our fire 
without saying a word, and then turned to unsaddle his horse ; 
nor could any questions from us about his hunting draw from 
him more than laconic replies. If JBeatte, however, observed 
this Indian taciturnity about what he had done, Tonish made 
up for it by boasting of what he meant to do. Now that we 
were in a good hunting country he meant to take the field, and, 
if we would take his word for it, our lodge would henceforth 
be overwhelmed with game. Luckily his talking did not pre- 
vent his working, the doe was skilfully dissected, several fat 
ribs roasted before the fire, the coffee kettle replenished, and 
in a little while we were enabled to indemnify ourselves luxuri- 
ously for our late meagre repast. 

The Captain did not return until late, and he returned empty- 
handed. He had been in pui'suit of his usual game, the deer, 
when he came upon the tracks of a gang of aboT*t sixty elk. 
Having never killed an animal of the kind, and the elk being 
at this moment an object of ambition among all the veteran 
hunters of the camp, he abandoned his pursuit of the deer, 
and followed the newly discovered track. After some time he 
came in sight of the elk, and had several fair chances of a shot, 
but was anxious to bring down a large buck which kept in the 
adva^nce. Finding at length there was danger of the whole 
gang escaping him, he fired at a doe. The shot took effect, 
but the animal had sufficient strength to keep on for a time 
with its companions. From the tracks of blood he felt confi- 
dent it was mokrtaUy wounded, but evening came on, he could 
not keep the trail, and had to give up the search until morn- 
ing. 

Old Ryan and his little band had not yet rejoined us, neither 
had our young half-breed Antoine made his appearance. It 
was determined, therefore, to remain at our encampment i< t 
the following day, to give time for all stragglers to arrive. 

The conversation this evening, among the old huntsmen, 
turned upon the Delaware tribe, one of whose encampments we 
had passed in the course of the day ; and anecdotes were given 
of their prowess in war and dexterity in hunting. They used 
to be deadly foes of the Osages, who stood in great awe of their 
desperate valor, though they were apt to attribute it to a whim- 
sical cause. "Look at the Delawares," would they say, ** dey 
got short leg — no can run — must stand and fight a great heap." 



:,4: A TOUR ON THE PJlAlBTES. 

In fact the Dela,wares are rather short legged, while the Osog'es 
ai*e remarkable for length of limb. 

The expeditions of the Delawares, whether of war or hunting, 
are wide and fearless; a small band of them will penetrate far 
into these dangerous and hostile Avilds, and will push their en- 
campments even to the Rocky Mountains. This daring tem- 
])cr may be in some measure encouraged by one of the super- 
stitions of their creed. They believe that a guardian spirit, in 
the form of a great eagle, watches over them, hovering in the 
sky, far out of sight. Sometimes, when well pleased with 
them, he wheels down into the lower regions, and may be seen 
circhug with widespread wings against the white clouds; at 
such times the seasons are propitious, the corn grows finely, 
and they have great success in hunting. Sometimes, however, 
-he is angi-y, and then he vents his rage in the thunder, which 
is his voice, and the lightning, which is the flashing of his eye, 
and strikes dead the object of liis displeasure. 

The Delawares make sacrifices to this spirit, who occasion- 
ally lets drop a feather from his wing in token of satisfaction. 
These feathers render the wearer invisible, and invulnerable. 
Indeed, the Indians generally consider the feathers of the eagle 
possessed of occult and sovereign virtues. 

At one time a party of the Delawares, in the course of a bold 
excursion into the Pawnee hunting groimds, were surrounded 
on one of the great plains, and nearly destroyed. The remnant 
took refuge on the summit of one of those isolated and conical 
hiUs which rise almost like artificial mounds, from the midst 
of the prairies. Here the chief warrior, driven almost to de- 
spair, sacrificed his horse to the tutelar spirit. Suddenly an 
enormous eagle, rushing down from the sky, bore off the vic- 
tim in his talons, and mounting into the air, dropped a quiU 
feather from his wing. The ciiief caught it up with joy, bound 
it to his forehead, and, leading his followers dov.m the Mil, cut 
his way through the enemy with great slaughter, and without 
any one of his party receiving a wound. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE SEARCH FOR THE ELK. — PAWNEE STORIES. 

With the morning dawn, the prime hunters of the camp 
were all on the alert, and set off in different directions, to beat 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 55 

up the country foi* game. The Captain's brother, Sergeant 
Bean, was among the first, and returned before brealifast with 
success, having killed a fat doe, almost within the purUeus of 
the camp. 

When breakfast was over, the Captain mounted his horse, 
to go in quest of the elk wliicli he had Avounded on the preced- 
ing evening ; and which, he was persuaded, had received its 
death-wound. I determined to join him in the search, and we 
accordingly sallied forth together, accompanied also by his 
brother, the sergeant, and a lieutenant. Two rangers followed 
on foot, to bring home the carcass of the doe which the ser- 
geant had killed. We had not ridden far, when we came to 
where it lay, on the side of a liill, in the midst of a beautiful 
woodland scene. The two rangers immediately fell to work, 
with true hunters' skill, to dismember it, and prepare it for 
transportation to the camp, while we continued on our course. 
We passed along sloping hillsides, among skirts of thicket and 
scattered forest trees, until we came to a place where the long 
herbage was pressed down with numerous elk beds. Here the 
Captain had first roused the gang of elks, and, after looking 
about diligently for a Mttle while, he pointed out their *' trail,'' 
the foot-prints of which were as large as those of homed cat- 
tle. He now put himself upon the track, and went quietly for- 
ward, the rest of us following kim in Indian file. At lengih he 
halted at the place Avhere the elk had been when shot at. Spots 
of blood on the surrounding herbage showed that the shot had 
been effective. The wounded animal had evidently kept for 
some distance with the rest of the herd, as could be seen by 
sprinklmgs of blood here and there, on the shrubs and weeds 
bordering the trail. These at length suddenly disappeared. 
" Somewheue hereabout," said the Captain, "the elk must 
have turned off from the ga.ng. Whenever they feel them- 
selves mortally wounded, they will turn aside, and seek some 
out-of-the-way place to die alone." 

There was something in this picture of the last moments of a 
wounded deer, to touch the sympathies of one not hardened to 
the gentle disports of the chase ; such sympathies, however, 
are but transient. Man is naturally an animal of prey ; and, 
however changed by civilization, will readily relapse into his 
instinct for destruction. I found my ravenous and sangui- 
nary propensities daily growing stronger upon the prairies. 

After looking about for a little while, the Captain succeeded 
in finding the separate trail of the wounded elk, which tm-ned 



56 ^ TOUli ON THE PRAIRIES. 

\M almost at right angles from that of the herd, and entered 
an open forest of scattered trees. The traces of blood became 
more faint and rare, and occurred at greater distances: at 
length they ceased altogether, and the ground was so hard, 
and the herbage so much pa,rched and withered, that the foot- 
prints of the animal could no longer be perceived. 

' ' The elk must lie somewhere in tliis neighborhood, " said 
fhe Captain, "as you may know by those turkey-buzzards 
wheeHng about in the air : for they always hover m that way 
above some carcass. However, the dead elk cannot get away, 
so let us follow the trail of the hving ones : they may have 
halted at no great distance, and we may find them gracing, 
and get another crack at them." 

We accordingly returned, and resumed the trail of the elks, 
which led us a straggling course over hill and dale, covered 
with scattered oaks. Every now and then v\'e VvTould catch a 
glimi)se of a deer bounding away across some glade of the 
forest, but the Captain was not to be diverted from his elk 
hvmt by such inferior game. A la,rge flock of wild turkeys, 
too, were roused by the trampling of our horses ; some scam- 
pered off as fast as their long leg's could carry them ; others 
fluttered up into the trees, where they remamed with out- 
stretched necks, gazing at us. The Captain would not allow a 
rifle to bo discharged at them, lest it should alarm the elk, 
whiph he hoped to find in the vicinity. At length we came to 
where the forest ended in a steep bank, and the Eed Fork 
wound its way below us, between broad sandy shores, llic 
trail descended the bank, and we could trace it, with oar eyes, 
across the level sands, until it terminated in the river, which, 
it was evident, the gang had forded on the preceding evening. 

"It is needless to follow on any farther," said the Captain. 
' ' The elk must have been much frightened, and, af te»r crossing 
the river, may have kept on for twenty miles without stop- 
ping." 

Out little party now divided, the lieutenant and sergeant 
making a circuit in quest of game, and the Captain and myself 
taking the direction of the camp. On our way, we came to a 
buffalo track, more than a year old. It was not wider than an 
ordinary footpath, and worn deep into the soil; for these 
anmials follow each other in single file. Shortly afterward, 
we met two rangers on foot, hunting. They had wounded an 
elk, but he had escaped ; and in pursuing him, had found the 
one shot by the Captain on the preceding evening. They 



A TOUR 0^' THE FEAIBIES. 57 

turned back, and conducted us to it. It was a noble animal, 
as large as a yearling heifer, and lay in an open part of the 
forest, al)Out a mile and a half distant from the place Avhere it 
had been shot. The turkey -buzzards, which we had previously 
noticed, were wheeling in the air above it. The observation 
of the Captain seemed verified. The poor animal, aa life was 
ebbing away, had apparently abandoned its unhurt com- 
panions, and turned aside to die alone. 

The Captain and the two rangers forthwith fell to work, 
with their hunting-knives, to flay and cut up the carcass. It 
was already tainted on the inside, but ample collops were cut 
from the ribs and haunches, and laid in a heap on the out- 
stretched hide. Holes were then cut along the border of the 
hide, raw thongs .were passed through them, and the whole 
drawn w^ like a sack, which was swung behind the Captain's 
saddle. All this while, the turkey-buzzards were soaring over- 
head, waiting for our departure, to swoop down and banquet 
on the carcass. 

Tne wreck of the poof elk being thus dismantled, the Cap- 
tain and myself mounted our horses, and jogged back to the 
camp, while the two rangers resumed their hunting. 

On reaching the camp, I found there our young hali-breed, 
Antoine. After separating from Beatte, in the search after 
the stray hoiocs on the other side of the Arkansas, he had 
fiiUen upon a wrong track, which he followed for sevoral miles, 
when he overtook old Ryan and his party, and found he had 
been following their traces. 

They all forded the Arkansas about eight miles above our 
crossing place, and found their way to our late encanpment in 
the glen, where the rear-guard we had left behind was waiting 
for them. Antoine, being well mounted, and somewhat im- 
patient to rejoin us, had pushed on alone, following our trail, 
to our present encampment, and bringing the carcass of a 
young bear (vhich he had killed. 

Our camp, during the residue of the day, presented a min- 
gled picture of bustle and repose. Some of the men were busj 
round the fires, jerking and roasting venison and bear's meat, 
to be packed up as a future supply. Some were stretching 
and dressing the skins of the animals they had killed ; others 
were washing their clothes in the brook, and hanging them on 
the bushes to dry; while many were lying on the grass, and 
lazily gossiping in the shade. Every now and then a himter 
would return, on horseback or on foot, laden with game, or 



.08 TOUR ON THE PllAIRIES. 

empty Imnded. Those who brought home any spoil, deposited 
it at the Captain's fire, and then filed off to their respective 
messes, to relate their day's exploits to their companions. The 
game killed at this camp consisted of six deer, one elk, two 
bears, and six or eight turkeys. 

During the last two or three days, since their wild Indian 
acliievement in naviga?fcing the river, our retainers had risen 
in consequence among the rangers ; and now I found Tonish 
making himself a complete oracle among some of the raw and 
inexperienced recruits, who had never been in the wilderness. 
He had continually a knot hanging about him, and listening 
to his extravagant tales about the Pawnees, with whom he 
pretended to have had fearful encounters. His representa- 
tions, in fact, were calculated to inspire hfe hearers with an 
awful idea of the foe into whose lands they were intruding. 
According to his accounts, the rifle of the wliite man was no 
match for the bow and arrow of the Pawnee. When the rifle 
was once discharged, it took time and^ trouble to load it again, 
and in the meantime the enemy could keep on lamiching his 
shafts as fast as he could draw his bow. Then the Pawnee, 
according to Tonish, could shoot, with unerring aim, three 
himdred yards, and send his arrow clean through and through 
a buffalo ; nay, he had known a Pawnee shaft pass through one 
buffalo and wound another. And then the way the Pawnees 
sheltered themselves from the shots of their enemy: they 
would hang with one leg over the saddle, crouching theu' bodies 
along the opposite side of their horse, and would shoot their 
arroAvs from under his neck, while at full speed ! 

If Tonish was to be beheved, there was peril at every step in 
these debatable grounds of the Indian tribes. Pawnees lurked 
unseen among the thickets and ravines. They had their scouts 
and sentinels on the summit of the mounds which command 
a view over the prairies, where they lay crouched in the tall 
grass; only now and then raising their heads to watch the 
movements of any war or hunting party that might be passing 
in lengthened line below. At night, they would lurk round an 
encampment; Gf:awling through the grass, and imitating the 
movements of a wolf, so as to deceive the sentinel on the out- 
post, until, having arrived sufficiently near, they would speed 
an arrow through his heart, and retreat undiscovered. In 
telling his stories, Tonish would appeal from time to time to 
Beatte, for the truth of what he said ; the only reply would be 
a nod or shrug of the shoulders; the latter being divided in 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 59 

nuDd betv/een a .listaste for the gasconacling spirit of Ms com- 
i^^.e, and a sovereign contempt for the inexperience of the 
young rangers in all that he considered true knowledge. 



CHAPTER XYI. 



A SICK CA3IP.— THE MARCH.— THE DISABLED HORSE.— OLD RYAN 
AND THE STRAGGLERS.— SYMPTOMS OF CHANGE OF WEATHER, 
AND CHANGE OF HUMORS. 

October ISth.^Wc prepared to march at the usual hour 
but word was brought to the Captain that three of the rangers, 
who had been attacked, with the measles, were unable to pro- 
creed, and that another one was missing. The last was an old 
f rontiei-sman, by the n^me of Sawyer, wh- had gained years 
without experience ; and having salhed forth to hunt, on the pre- 
ceding day, had probably lost his way on the prairies. A 
guard of ten men was, therefore, left to take care of the sick, 
and wait for the straggler. If the fonner recovered sufficiently 
in the coui'se of tvv^o or three days, they were to rejoin the 
]r.ain body, otherwise to be escorted back to the garrison. 

Taking our leave of the sick camp, we shaped our course 
w'.'stward, along the heads of small streams, all wandering, in 
deep ravines, towards the Red Fork. The land was high and 
undulating, or "rolling, "as it is termed in the West; with a 
poor hungry soil muigled with the sandstone, which is unusal 
in this part of the country, and checkered with harsh forests of 
post-oak and black-jack. 

In the course of the morning, I received a lesson on the im- 
portance of being chary of one's steed on the prairies. The 
one I rode surpassed in action most horses of the troop, and 
was of great mettle and a generous spirit. In crossing the 
deep ravines, he would scramble up the steep banks Uke a cat, 
and was always for leaping the narrow runs of water. I was 
not awa,re of the unprudence of indulging him in such exer- 
tions, until, in leaping him across a small brook, I felt him 
innnediately falcer beneath me. He limped forward a short 
distance, but soon fell stark lame, having sprained his shoidder. 
What was to be done? He could not keep up with the troop, 
and was too valuable to be abandoned on the prairie. The 



60 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

only alternative was to send him back to join the invalids in 
the sick camp, and to share their fortunes. Nobody, however, 
seemed disposed to lead him back, although I offered a Mberal 
reward. Either the stories of Tonish about tho Pawnees had 
spread an apprehension of lurking foes, and innninent perils on 
the prairies ; or there was a fear of missing the trail and getting 
lost. At length two young men stepped forward and agreed 
to go in company, so that, should they be benighted on the 
prairies, there might be one to watch while the other slept. 

The horse was accordingly consigned to their care, and 1 
looked after him with a rueful eye, as he limped off, for it 
seemed as if, with liim, all strength and buoyancy had departs 
from me. 

I looked round for a steed to supply liis place, and fixed my 
eyes upon the gallant gray which I had transferred at the 
Agency to Tonish. The moment, however, that I hinted about 
his dismounting and taking up "svith the supernumerary pony, 
the little varlet broke out into vociferous remonstrances and 
lamentations, gasping and almost strangling, in his eagerness 
to give vent to them. I saw that to unhorse him would be to 
prostrate his spirit and cut his vanity to the quick. I had not 
the heart to inflict such a wound, or to bring down the poor 
devil from his transient vainglory ; so I left him in possession 
of his gallant gray; and contented myself with shifting my 
saddle to the jaded pony. 

I was now sensible of the complete reverse to which a horse- 
man is exposed on the prairies. I felt how completely the 
spirit of the rider depended upon liis steed. I 'had hitherto 
been able to make excursions at will from the line, and to gallop 
in pursuit of any object of interest or curiosity. I was now 
reduced to the tone of the jaded annual I bestrode, and doomed 
to plod on patiently and slowly after my file leader. Above all, 
I was made conscious how unwise it is, on expeditions of the 
kind, where a man's life may depend upon the strength, and 
speed, and freshness of his horse, to task the generous animal 
by any unnecessary exertion of his powers. 

I have observed that the wary and experienced huntsman 
and traveller of the prairies is always sparing of liis horse, 
when on a journey ; never, except in emergency, putting him 
off of a walk'. The regular journey ings of frontiersmen and In- 
dians, when on a long march, seldom exceed above fifteen miles 
a day, and are generally about ten or twelve, and they never 
indulge in capricious galloping. Many of those, however, with 



A TOUR ON THE FKAlltlKS. (31 

whom I was travelling were young and inexperienced, and full 
of excitement at finding themselves in a country abounding 
with game. It was impossible to retain them in the sobriety of 
a march, or to keep them to the hne. As we broke our way 
tlu-ough the coverts and ravines, and the deer started up and 
scampered off to the right and left, the rifle balls would whiz 
after them, and our young hunters dash off in pursuit. At one 
time they made a grand burst after what they supposed to be 
a gang of bears, but soon puUed up on discovering them to be 
black wolves, prowling in company. 

Vfter a march of about twelve miles we encami)ed, a little after 

id-day, on the borders of a brook which loitered through a 
deep ravine. In the course of the afternoon old Eyan, the 
Nestor of the camp, made his appearance, followed by his little 
band of stragglers. He was greeted with joyful acclamations, 
which showed the estimation in which he was held by his 
brother woodmen. The little band came laden with venison ; 
a fine haunch of which the veteran hunter laid, as a present, by 
the Captain's fire. 

Our men, Beatte and Tonish, both sallied forth, early in the 
afternoon, to hunt. Towards evening the former returned, 
with a fine buck across his horse. He laid it down, as usual, iii 
silence, and proceeded to unsaddle and turn his horse loose. 
Tonish came back without any game, but with much more, 
glory; having made several capital shots, though unluckily 
the wounded deer had all escaped him. 

There was an abundant supply of meat in the camp; for, 
besides other game, three elk had been killed. The wary and 
veteran woodmen were all busy jerking meat, against a time 
of scarcity; the less experienced revelled in present abund- 

lee, leaviii!?: the morrow to provide for itself. 

On the following morning (October 19th). I succeeded in 
(^hanging my pony and a reasonable sum <:■ money for a 
strong and active horse. It was a great satisfaction to find 
myself once more tolerably well mounted. I perceived, how- 
ever, that there would be little difficulty in making a selection 
from among the troop, for the rangers had aU that propensity 
for "swapping," or, as they term it, "trading," which per- 
vades the West. In the coui*se of our expedition, there was 
scarcely a horse, rifle, powder-horn, or blanket that did not 
(change owners several times; and one keen "trader" boasted 
of having, by dint of frequent bargains, changed a bad horse 
into a good one, and -put a hundred dollars in his pocket. 



62 -^ TOUR ON THE PliAlBIES. : 

The morning was lowering and sultry, with low muttering 
of distant thunder. The change of weather had its effect upon 
the spirits of the troop. The camp was unusually sober and ^ 
quiet ; there was none of the accustomed farmyard melody of 
crowing and cackling at daybreak ; none of the bursts of mer- 
riment, the loud jokes and banterings, that had commonly 
prevailed during the bustle of equipment. Now and then 
might be heard a short strain of a song, a faint laugh, or a soli- 
tary whistle; but, in general, every one went silently and dog- 
gedly about the duties of the camp, or the prei)ai^tiens iov 
departure. 

When the time arrived to saddle and mount, five horses wei c 
reported as missing ; although aU the woods and thickets h-ad 
been beaten u}) for some distance round the camp. Several 
rangers were dispatched to "skir" the country round in quest 
of them. In the meantime, the thmider continued to growl, and 
we had a j^assing shower. The horses, like their riders, wl^re 
affected by the change of weather. They stood here and there 
about the camp, some saddled and bridled, others loose, but all 
spiritless and dozing, with stooping head, one hind leg partly 
drawn up so as to rest on the point of the hoof, and the whole 
hide reeking vAth. the rain, and sending up wreaths of vapor-. 
The men, too, waited in hstless groups the return uf their com- 
rades who had gone in quest of the horses ; now and then turn- 
ing up an anxious eye to the drifting clouds, which boded ixxi 
approaching storm. Gloomy weather inspires gloomy thoughts. 
Some expressed fears that we were dogged by some party of 
Indians, who had stolen the hoi-ses in the night. The most 
prevalent apprehension, however, was that they had returned 
on their traces to our last encampment, or had started off" on 
a direct line for Fort Gibson. In this respect, the instinct of 
horses is said to resemble that of the pigeon. They will strike 
for home by a direct course, passing through tracts of wilder- 
iiess which they have never before traversed. 

Aiter delaying until the morning was somewhat advanced, a 
i.eutenant with a guard was appointed to await the return uf 
the rangers, and we set off on our day's journey, considerably 
reduced in numbers : much, as I thought, to the discomposure 
of somxC of the troop, who intimated that we might prove too 
weak-handed, in case oi an encounter vv^ith the Pawnees. 



A TOUR ON THE PBAIEIES, 63 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THTJNDER-STORM ON THE PRAIRIES. —THE STORM ENCAMPMENT.—' 
NIGHT SCENE. — INDIAN STORIES.— A FRIGHTENED HORSE. 

Our raarch for a part of the day ; lay a little to the south of 
west, through straggling forests of the kind of low scrubbed 
trees already mentioned, called "post-oaks" and "black-jacks." 
The soil of these "oak barrens" is loose and unsound; being 
little better at times than a mere quicksand, in which, in rainy 
weather, the horse's hoof slips from side to side, and now and 
then sinks in a rotten, spongy tin-f , to the fetlock. Such was 
the case at present in consequence of successive thunder- 
showers, through w^hich we draggled along in dogged silence. 
Several deer were roused by our approach, and scudded across 
the forest glades ; but no one, as formerly, broke the line of 
march to pursue them. At one time, we passed the bones and 
honis of a buffalo, and at another tune a buffalo track, not 
above three days old. These signs of the vicinity of thiss 
grand game of the prairies, had a reviving effect on the spirits 
< )f our huntsmen ; but it was of transient duration. 

In crossing a prairie of moderate extent, rendered Httle bet- 
ter than a slippery bog by the recent showers, we were over- 
taken by a violent thunder-gust. The rain came rattling upon 
us in torrents, and spattered up like steam along the gTound ; 
the whole landscape was suddenly wrapped in gloom that gave 
a vivid effect to the mtense sheets of lightnmg, while the thun- 
der seemed to burst over our very heads, and was reverbe- 
rated by the groves and forests that checkered and skirted the 
prairie. Man and beast were so pelted, drenched, and con- 
founded, that the line was thrown in complete confusion; some 
of the horses were so frightened as to be almost umnanage- 
able, and our scattered cavalcade looked like a tempest-tossed 
fleet, driven hither and thither, at the mercy of wind and 
Avave. 

. At length, at half -past two o'clock, we came to a halt, and 
^gathering together our forces, encamped in an open and lofty 
grove, with a prairie on one side and a stream on the other. 
The forest immediately rang with the sound of the axe, and 
the crash of falling trees. Huge fires were soon blazing; blan- 
kets were stretched before them, by way of tents ; bootlis were 
hastily reared of bark and skins; every fire had its gTOup 



64 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

drawn close round it, drying and Yfarming themselves, or pre- 
paring a comforting meal. Some of the rangers were dis- 
charging and cleaning their rifles, which had been exposed to 
the rain ; while the horses, relieved from their saddles and 
burdens, rolled in the wet grass. 

The showers continued from time to time, until late in the 
evening. Before dark, our horses were gathered in and teth- 
ered about the skirts of the camp, \vithin the outposts, through 
fear of Indian prowlers, who are apt to take advantage of 
stormy nights for their depredations and assaults. As the 
night thickened, the huge fires became more and more lumi- 
nous ; lighting up masses of the overhanging f ohage, and leav- 
ing other parts of the grove in deep gloom. Every fire had its 
goblin group aroimd it, while the tethered horses were dimly 
seen, like sj^ectres, among the thickets; excei)ting that here 
and there a gi^ay one stood out in bright relief. 

The grove, thus fitfully lighted up by the ruddy glare of the 
fires, resembled a vast leafy dome, walled in by opaque dark- 
ness ; but every now and then two or three quivering flashes 
of lightning in quick succession, would suddenly reveal a vast 
champaign country, where fields and forests, and running 
streams, would start, as it were, into existence for a few 
brief seconds, and, before the eye could ascertain them, vanish 
again into gloom. 

A thunder-storm on a prairie, as upon the ocean, derives 
grandeur and subhmity from the wild and boundless waste 
over which it rages and bellows. It is not surprising that 
these awful iDhenomena of nature should be objects of super- 
stitious reverence to the poor savages, and that they should 
consider the thunder the angry voice of the Great Spirit. As 
our half-breeds sat gossiping round the fire, I drew from them 
some of the notions entertained on the subject by their Indian 
friends. The Ititter declare that extinguished thunderbolts are 
sometimes picked up by hunters on the prairies, who use them 
for the heads of arrows and lances, and that any warrior thus 
armed is invincible. Should a thunder-storm occur, however, 
during battle, he is liable to be carried away by the thunder, 
and never heard of more. 

A warrior of the Konza tribe, hunting on a prairie, was 
overtaken by a storm, and struck down senseless by the 
thunder. On recovering, he beheld the thunderbolt lying on 
the ground, and a horse standing beside it. Snatching up the 
bolt, ho sprang upon the horse, but found, too late, that be 



A TOUR OJV THE PRATRIE8. 65 

was astride of the lightning. In an instant he was whisked 
away over prairies and forests, and streams and deserts, until 
he was flung senseless at the foot of the Rocky Mountains: 
whence, on recovering, it took him several months to return 
to his own people. 

This story reminded me of an Indian tradition, related by a 
traveller, of the fate of a warrior who saw the thunder lying 
upon the ground, with a beautifully wrought moccason on 
each side of it. Thinking he had found a prize, he put on the 
moccasons; but they bore him away to the land of spirits, 
whence he never returned. 

These are simple and artless tales, but they had a wild and 
romantic interest heard from the lips of half -savage narrators, 
round a hunter's fire, on a stormy night, with a forest on one 
side, and a howling waste on the other ; and where, peradven- 
ture, savage foes might be lurking in the outer darkness. 

Our conversation was interrupted by a loud clap of thunder, 
followed immedia^tely by the sound of a horse galloping off 
madly into the waste. Every one listened in mute silence. 
The hoofs resounded vigorously for a time, but grew famt^r 
and fainter, until they died away in remote distance. 

When the sound was no longer to be heard, the listeners 
turned to conjecture what could have caused this sudden 
scamper. Some thought the horse had been startled by the 
thunder; others, that some lurking Indian ha.d galloped off 
\vith him. To this it was objected, that the usual mode with 
the Indians is to steal quietly upon the horse, take off his 
fetters, mount him gently, and walk him off as silently as pos- 
sible, leading off" others, without any unusual stir or noise to 
disturb the camp. 

On the other hand, it was stated as a connnon practice with 
the Indians, to creep among a troop of horses when grazing at 
night, mount one quietly, and then stsrt off suddenly at full 
speed. Nothing is so contagious among horses as a panic; one 
sudden break-away of tliis kind, will sometimes alarm the 
whole troop, and they will set off, helter-skelter, after the 
leader. 

Every one who had a horse grazing on the skirts of the 
camp was uneasy, lest his should be the fugitive; but it was 
impossible to ascertain the fact until morning. Those v/ho 
liad tethered their horses felt more secure; though horses 
thus tied up, and limited to a short range at night, are apt 
to fall off in flesh and strength, during a long march; and 



Orj A TOUR 02^ THE PliAIlUlis. 

many of the hoi'ses of the troop ah-eady gave signs of being 
wayworn. 

After a gloomy and unruly night, the morning da.wned 
bright and clear, and a glorious sunrise transformed the whole 
landscape, as if by magic. The late dreary wilderness bright- 
ened into a fine open country, with stately groves; and clumps 
pf oaks of a gigantic size, some of which stood singly, as if 
planted for ornament and shade, in the midst of rich meadows ; 
while our horses, scattered about, and grazing under them, 
gave to the whole the air of a noble park. It was difficult to 
realize the fact that we were so far in the wilds beyond the 
residence of man. Our encampment, alone, had a savage 
appearance ; with its rude tents of skins and blankets, and its 
columns of blue smoke rising among the trees. 

The first care in the morning, was to look after our horses. 
Some of them had wandered to a distance, but all were fortu- 
nately found ; even the one whose clattering hoofs had caused 
such uneasiness in the night. He had come to a halt about a 
mile from the camp, and was found quietly gTazing near a 
brook. The bugle sounded for departure about half past eight. 
As we were in greater risk of Indian molestation the farther 
we advanced, our line was formed with more precision than 
heretofore. Every one had his station assigned him, and was 
forbidden to leave it in pursuit of game, without special per- 
mission. The pack-horses were placed in the centre of the 
hne, and a strong guard in the rear. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

A GRAND PRAIRIE. — ^CLIFF CASTLE.— BUFFALO TRACKS. — DEER 
HUNTED BY WOLVES. — CROSS TIMBER. 

After a toilsome march of some distance through a country 
cut up by ravines and brooks, and entangled by thickets, we 
emerged upon a grand prairie. Here one of the characteristic 
scenes of the Far West broke upon us. An innnense extent of 
gi*assy, undulating, or, as it is teimed, rolling country, with 
here and there a clump of trees, dimly seen in the distance 
like a slilp at sea ; the landscape deriving sublimity from its 
vastness and simplicity. To the southwest, on the summit of 



A TOUR ON THE FEAlIilES. 67 

a Mil. was a singular crest of broken rocks, resembling a 
mined fortress. It reminded me of the riiin of some Moorish 
castle, crowning a height in the midst of a lonely Spanish 
landscape. To this hill we gave the name of Chff Castle. 

The prames of these great hunting regions differed in the 
chai*acter of their vegetation from those through wiiick I had 
hitherto passed. Instead of a profusion of tall flowering 
plants and long flaunting grasses, they were covered with 
a shorter growth of herbage caUed buffalo grass, somewhat 
coarse, but, at the proper seasons, affording excellent and 
abundant pasturage. At present it was growing why, and in 
many places was too much parched for grazing. 

The weather was verging into that serene but somewhat 
arid season called the Indian Summer. There was a smoky 
haze in the atmosphere that tempered the brightness of the 
sunshine into a golden tint, softenmg the features of the land- 
scape, and giving a vagueness to the outlines of distant 
objects. This haziness was daily increasing, and was attri- 
buted to the burning of distant prairies by the Indian himting 
parties. 

We had not gone far upon the prairie before we came to 
Avhere deeply worn footpaths were seen traversing the comitry : 
sometimes two or three would keep on parallel to each other, 
and but a few paces apart. These were pronomiced to be 
traces of buffaloes, where large droves had passed. There 
were tracks also of horses, which were observed with some 
attention by our experienced hunters. They could not be the 
tracks of wild horses, as there were no prints of the hoofs of 
colts ; all were f uU-grown. As the horses evidently were not 
shod, it was concluded they must belong to some hunting 
party of Pawnees. In the course of the morning, the tracks 
of a single horse, ^vith shoes, were discovered. This might be 
the horee of a Cherokee hunter, or perhaps a horse stolen from 
the whites of the frontier. Thus, in traversing these perilous 
wastes, every footprint and dint of hoof becomes matter of 
cautious inspetion and slirewd surmise; and the question con- 
tinually is, whether it be the trace of friend or foe, whether of 
recent or ancient date, and whether the being that raade it be 
out of reach, or liable to be encountered. 

We were getting more and more into the game country : as 
we proceeded, we repeatedly saw deer to the right and left, 
bounding off for the coverts ; but their appearance no longer 
excited the same eagerness to pursue. In passing along a 



08 A TO mi o^^ THE peaiuies. 

slope of the prairie, between two rolling swells of land, ^e 
came in sight of a genuine natural hunting match. A i)ack of 
seven black wolves and one white one were in full chase of a 
buck, which they had nearly tu-ed down. They crossed the 
line of our march without apparently perceiving us.; we saw 
them have a fair run of nearly a mile, gaming upon the buck 
until they w^ere leaping upon his haunches, when he plunged 
down a ravine. Some of our party galloped to a rising gi*ound 
commanding a view of the ravine. The poor buck was com- 
])letely beset, some on his fianlis, some at his throat : he made 
two or thi-ee struggles and desperate bounds, but was dragged 
down, overpowered, and torn to pieces. The black wolves, in 
theu' ravenous hunger and fury, took no notice of the distant 
group of horsemen ; but the v,4iite wolf, apparently less game, 
abandoned the prey, and scampered over hill and dale, rousing 
various deer that were crouched in the hollows, and which 
bounded o^ likewise in different dii-ections. It was altogether 
a wild scene, wortliy of the "hunting grounds," 

We now came once more in sight of the Eed Fork, winding 
ltd turbid course between well-wooded hills, and through a 
vast and magnificent landscape. The prairies bordering on 
the rivers are always varied in this way with woodland, so 
beautifully interspersed as to appear to have been laid out by 
the hand of taste ; and they only want here and there a village 
spire, the battlements of a castle, or the turrets of an old 
family mansion rising from among the trees, to rival the most 
ornamented scenery of Europe. 

About midday we reached the edge of that scattered belt of 
i'orest land, about forty miles in ^vidth. which stretches across 
the country from north to south, from the Arkansas to the 
Eed River, separating the upper from the lower prairies, and 
commonly called the "Cross Timber." On the skirts of this 
forest land, just on the edge of a prairie, Ave found traces of a 
Pawnee encampment of between one and two hundred lodges, 
showing that the party must have been numerous. The skull 
of a buffalo lay near the camp, and the moss which had gath- 
ered on it proved that the encampment was at least a year old. 
About half a mile off we encamped in a beautiful grove, 
watered by a fine spring and riAn.ilet. Our day's journey had 
been about fourteen miles. 

In the course of the afternoon we were rejoined by two of 
Lieutenant King's party, which we had left behind a few days 
before, to look after stray horEc:^. All the horses had been 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 69 

found, thoiigli some had vrandered to the distance oi several 
miies. The lieutenant, with seventeen of his companions, had 
remahied at our last night's encampment to hunt, having come 
upon recent traces of buffalo. They had also seen a fine wild 
horse, which, however, had galloped olf with a speed thals 
defied pursuit. 

Confident anticipations T>^ere now indulged, that on the fol- 
lomng day we should meet with fouiialo, and perhaps with 
wild horses, and every one was in spirits. vVe needed some 
excitement of the kind, for our young men were growing 
weary of marching and encamping under restraint, and pro- 
visions this day were scanty. The Captain and several of the 
rangers went out hunting, but brought home nothing but a 
small deer and a few turkeys. Our two men, Beatte and 
Tonish, likewise went out. The former returned vvith a deer 
athwart Ms horse, vvdiicli, as usual, he laid down by our lodge, 
and said nothing. Tonish returned witli no game, but with 
his customary budget of wonderful tales. Both he and the 
deer had done marvels. Not one had come Vvdtliin the lure of 
his rifle without being hit in a mortal part, yet, strange to say, 
every one had kept on his way Avithout flinching. We all 
determined that, from the accuracy of his aim, Tonish must 
have shot with chaTrmcd balls, but that every deer had a 
charmed life. The most impoi-tant intelligence brought by 
him, however, was, that he had seen the fresh tracks of 
several wild horses. Ke now considered himself upon thie 
«ve of great exploits, for there was nothing unon which he 
gloriJSed himself more than his skill in horse-catching. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Hrr?rTERS' ANTICIPATIONS. —THE RUGGED FORD. — A WILD HORSE. 

October 21st. — This morning the camp was in a bustle at an 
early hour : -the exr)ectation of faUing in with buffalo in the 
course of the day roused every one's spirit. There was a 
continual cracldng of rifles, that they might be reloaded: 
the shot was drawn off from double-barrelled guns, and balls ^ 
wore substituted. Tonish, however, prepared chiefly for a 
campaign against wild horses. He took the field, with a coil 
of cordage hung at his saddle-bow, and a couple of white 



70 A TOUR ON TEE PBAIPdES, 

wands, something like fishing-rods eight or ten feet in length-, - 
with forked ends. The coil of cordage thus used in hunting . 
the wild horse, is called a lariat, and answers to the lasso of 
South America. It is not flung, however, in the graceful and 
dexterous Spanish style. The hunter after a hard chase, when 
he succeeds in getting almost head and head with the wild 
horse, hitches the rimning noose of the lariat over his head by 
means of the forked stick; then letting him have the full 
length of the cord, i3lays him hke a fish, and chokes him into 
subjection. 

All tills Tonish promised to exemphfy to oiu' full satisfac- 
tion; wo had not much confidence m his success, and feared 
he might knock up a good horse in a headlong gallop after 
a bad one, for, hke all the French Creoles, he vras a merciless 
hard rider. It was determuied, therefore, to keep a sharp eye 
upon him, and to check his sallying propensities. 

We had not proceeded far on our morning's march, when wo 
were checked by a deep stream, running along the bottom of a 
thickly wooded ravine. After coasting it for a courjle of miles, 
we came to a fording place; but to get down to it was the 
difficulty, for the banks were steep and crumbling, and over- 
grown with forest trees, mingled with thickets, brambles, and 
grape-vines. At length the leading horseman broke his wasr 
through the thicket, and his horse, putting his feet together, 
Bhd down the black crumbhng bank, to the naiTov\r margin of, 
the stream ; then floundering across, with mud and water up 
to the saddle-girths, he scrambled up the opposite bank, and 
arrived safe on level ground. The whole line followed peU- 
mell after the leader, and pushing forward in close order, 
Indian file, they crowded each other clovm the bank and into 
tlie stream. Some of the horsemen missed the ford, and were 
soused over head and ears; one was unhorsed, and phnnped 
head foremost into the middle of the stream: for my own 
part, while pressed forward, and hurried over the bank by 
those behind me, I was interrupted by a grape-vine, as thick as 
a cable, which hung in a festoon as low as the saddle-bow, and 
dragging me from the saddle, threw me among the feet of the 
trampling horses. Fortunately, I escaped without injury, 
regained my steed, crossed the stream without further diffi- 
culty, and was enabled to join in the merriment occasioned by 
the ludicrous disasters. 

It is at passes like this that occur the most dangerous ambus- 
cades and sanguinary surprises of Indian warfare. A party ot 



A TOUR OlS' THE PRAmiES. '71 

savages weU placed among the thickets, might have made sad 

,' havoc among our men, while entangled in the ravine. 

•. ■■■: We now caine out upon a vast and glorious praii'ie, .spreading 

s"out heneath the golden beams of an autunmal sun. The deep 

and frequent traces of buitalo, showed it to be one of their 

favo-«*ite grazing grounds, yet none were to be seen. In the 

course of the morning ; we were overtaken by the lieutenant 

and seventeen men, who had remained behind, and who came 

laden witJi the spoils of buffaloes ; having killed three on the 

preceding day. One of the ranges-s, however, had little luck 

to boast of; his horse having taken fright at sight of the 

buffaloes, thrown his rider, and escaped into the woods. 

The excitement of our hunters, both young and old, now rose 
almost to fever height ; scarce any of them having ever encoun- 
• tered any of this far-famed game of 'ohe prairies. Accord- 
'■' ingly, wlien in the course of the day the cry of bulTalo ! buffalo ! 
)se from one part of the line, the whole oroop were thrown in 
agitation. We were just then passiQg through a beautiful 
pai't of the prairie, finely diversified 1)3' hills and slopes, and 
woody deUs, and high, stately groves. Those who had given 
the alarm, pointed out a large DlacK-Iooking animal, slowly 
movLQg along the side of a risiug ground, about two miles off. 
The ever-ready Toiiish jumped ap, and stood with his feet on 
■ the saddle, and his forked sticks m his iiands, like a posture- 
master or scaramouch at a circus, just ready fc^* a feat of 
horsemanship. After gazing at the animal for a moment, 
which he could have seen full as *v^eU without rising from his 
gtirrups, he pronounced it a wild horse; and dropping again 
into his saddle, was about to dash off fuU tilt in pursuit, 
when, to his inexpressible chagrin, he was called back, and 
ordered to keep to his post, in rear of the baggage horses. 

The Captain and two of his ofiicers now set oil to recon- 
noitre the game. It was the intention of the Captain, v/ho was 
an admirable marksman, to endeavor to crease the horse ; that 
is to say, to hit Ifim with a rifle Dall in the ridge of the neck. 
A wound of this kind paralyzes a horse for a moment ; he falls 
to the ground, and may be secured before he recovers. It is a 
cruel expedient, however, for an ill-directed shot may kiH 
or maim the noble anioial. 

As the Captain and his companions moved off laterally and 
slowly, in the direction of the horse, we continued our course 
forward; watching intently, however, the movements of the 



72 . A TOUR ON TED PRAIRIES. 

ground, and disappeared behind it. Tho Captain and Ms party 
were likewise aoon hidden by an intervening hill. 

After a time, the horse suddenly made his appearance to our 
right, just ahead of the hne, emerging out of a small valley, on 
a brisk trot ; having evidently taken the alarm. At sight of us 
lie stopped short, gazed at us for an instant with surprise, then 
tossing up his head, trotted off in fine style, glancing a.t us first 
over one shoulder, then over the other, his ample mane and 
tail streaming in the wind. Havmg dashed through a skirt of 
thicket, .that looked like a hedge-row, he paused in the open 
Held bej^ond, glanced back at us again, with a, beautiful bend 
of the nock, siraffed the air, then tossing his head again, broke 
into a gallop, and took refuge in a wood. 

It was the first time I had ever seen a. horse scouring his 
na.tive wilderness in all the pride and freedom of his nature. 
How different from the poor, mutilated, harnessed, checked, 
reined-up victim of luxmy, caprice, and avarice, in our 
cities ! 

After travelhng about fifteen miles, we encamped about one 
o'clock, tnat our hunters might have time to procure a supply 
of provisions. Our encampment v\^as in a spacious grove of 
lofty oaks and walnuts, free from under w^ood, on the border 
of a brook. While unloa'iing tho pack-horses, our little 
Prenchmrm wa :. loud in Ms complaints at having been pre- 
Tented from pursuing the wild horse, wliich he vrouid certainly 
have taken. In the meantime, I saw our half-breed, Beatte, 
quietly saddle his best horse, a powerful steed of half -savage 
race, hang a lariat at the saddle-bow, take a rifle and forked 
stick in hand, and, mounthig, depart from tho camp without 
saying a v/ord. It was evident he was going off in quest of the 
wild horse, but was disposed to hunt alone. 



CHAPTER XX. 
The Camp of ths "Wild Horse. 

hunters' stories. — HABITS OF THE WILD HORSE.— THE HALF- 
BREED AND HIS PRIZE. — A HORSE CHASE. — A V/ILB SPIRIT TASriHli. 

We had encamped in a good neighborhood for game, via 
the i-eports of rifles in various directions speedily gave notice. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAUUES, 73 

One of our huntei'S soon retur: ed with the 1 leat of a doe, tied 
lip in the skin, and slun£: across hi j shoul lers. Ai: ther 
Drought a fat buck across his horse. Two other deer were 
wrought in, and a numbei* of turkeys. All the game was 
fchi'own down in front of tb ^ Captain's fire, to be \ ortionc ,1 out 
among the various messes. The spits and camp kettles were 
soon in full employ, and throughout the evening 'here ' zj& a 
scene of hunters' feasting and profusion. 

We had been disappointed tliis day in our hopes of meeting 
With buffalo, but the sight of the wild horse had been a great 
novelty, and gave a turn to the conversation of the camp for 
the evening. There were several anecdotes told of a famous 
gray horse, which has ranged the prairies of this neighborhood 
for six or seven years, setting at naught every atteniT^t of the 
hunters to capture him. They say he can paco and rack (or 
amble) faster than the fleetest horses can run. Equally mar- 
vellous accounts were given of a black horse on the Brazos^ 
who grazed the prairies on that river's bariks in. Texas. Fo? 
years he outstripped all pursuit. His fame spread far and 
wide ; offers were made for him to the amount of a thousand 
dollars; the boldest and most hard-riding hunters tried in- 
cessantly to make prize of him, but in vain. At length he 
fell a victim to his gallantry, being decoyed under a tree by 
a tame mare, and a noose dropped over his head by a boy 
J)erched among the branches. 

The capture of a wild horse is one of the most favorite 
achievements of the pramo tribes; and, indeed, it is from this 
source tha.t the Indian hunters chiefly supply tliemselvea 
The ^vild horses which range those vast grassy plains, extend- 
ing from the Arkansas to the Spanish settlements, are of 
Various forms and colors, betraying their various descents. 
Some resemble the common English stock, and arc probably 
descended from horses which have escaped from our border 
settlements. Others are of a lov\^ but strong make, and arc 
supposed to be of the Andalusian breed, brought out by the 
Spa-nish discoverers. 

Some fanciful speculatists Lave seen in them descendants of 
the Arab stock, brought into Spain from Africa, and thence 
transferred to this country ; and have pleascni themselves with 
the idea, that their sires may have been of the pure coursers of 
the desert, that once bore Mahomet and his warhke disciples 
across the sandy plains of Arabia. 

Tho habits ol the Arab seem to have come with the steed. 



74 A TOUR ON THE PBAIItlES, 

The introduction of the horse on the boundless praiiies of the 
Far West, changed the whole mode of hving of then- inhabi- 
tants. It gave them that facility of rapid motion, and of sud- 
den and distant change of place, so dear to the roving propen- 
sities of man. Instead of lurking m the depths of gloomy 
forests, and patiently threading the mazes of a tangled wilder- 
ness on foot, like his brethren of the north, the Indian of the 
West is a rover of the plain; he leads a brighter and more 
eunsliiny life; almost always on horseback, on vast flowery 
prairies and under cloudless skies. 

I was lying by the Captain's fire, late in the evening, hs- 
tening to stories about those coursers of the prairies, and 
wea-viug speculations of my own, when there was a clamor of 
voices and a loud cheering at the other end of the camp ; and 
word was passed that Beatte, the half-breed, had brought in a 
wild horse. 

In an instant every fire was deserted; the whole camp 
crowded to see the Indian and his prize. It was a colt about 
two years old, weU grown, finely limbed, with bright promi- 
nent >cyes, and a spirited yet gentle demeanor. He gazed 
about him v/ith an air of mingled stupefaction and surprise, 
at the men, the horses, and the camp-fires; while the Indian 
stood before him v/ith folded arms, havmg hold of the other 
end of the cord which noosed his captive, and gazing on him 
with a most imperturbable aspect. Beatte, as I have before 
observed, has a greenish ohve complexion, with a strongly 
marked countenance, not unlike the bronze casts of Napoleon ; 
and a>s he stood before his captive horse, with folded arms and 
fixed aspect, he looked more like a statue than a man. 

If the horse, however, manifested the least restiveness, 
Beatte would immediately worry him with the lariat, jerking 
hhn first on one side, then on the other, so as almost to throw 
him on the ground ; when he had thus rendered him passive, 
he would resume his statue-hke attitude and gaze at him in 
silence. 

The whole scene was singularly wild; the tall grove, par- 
tially illumined by the flashing fires of the camp, the horses 
tethered here and there among the trees, the carcasses of deer 
hanging around, and in the midst of all, the wild huntsman 
and his wild horse, with an admiring tln'ong of rangers, 
almost as ^vild. 

In the eagerness of their excitement, several of the yoimg 
rangers sought to get the horse by purchase or barter, and 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 75 

even offered extravagant terms ; but Beatte declined all their 
offers. "You give great price now;" said he, "to-morrow you 
be sorry, and take back, and say d — d Indian !" 

The young men importuned him with questions about the 
mode in which he took the horse, but his answers were dry 
and laconic ; he evidently retained some pique at having been 
undervalued and sneered at by them; and at the same thne 
looked down upon them with contempt as greenhorns, httle 
versed in the noble science of woodcraft. 

Afterward, however, when he was seated by our fire, I read- 
ily drew from him an account of his exploit; for, though 
taciturn among strangers, and Httle prone to boast of his 
actions, yet his taciturnity, like that of all Indians, had its 
times of relaxation. 

He informed me, that on leaving the camp, he had returned 
to the place where we had lost sight of the wild horse. Soon 
getting upon its track, he followed it to the banks of the river. 
Here, the prints being more distinct in the sand, he perceived 
that one of the hoofs was broken and defective, so he gave up 
the pursuit. 

As he was returning to the camp, he came upon a gang of 
six horses, which immediately made for the river. He pur- 
sued them across the stream, left his rifle on the river bank, 
and putting liis horse to full speed, soon came up with the 
fugitives. He attempted to noose one of them, but the lariat 
hitched on one of his ears, and he shook it off. The horses 
dashed up a hill, he followed hard at their heels, when, of a 
sudden, he saw their tails whisking in the air, and they 
plunging down a precipice. It was too late to stop. He shut 
his eyes, held in his breath, and went over with them — neck 
or nothing. The descent was between twenty and thirty feet, 
but they all came down safe upon a sandy bottom. 

He now succeeded in throwing his noose round a fine young 
horse. As he galloped alongside of him, the two horses passed 
each side of a sapling, and the end of the lariat v/as jerked out 
of his hand. He regained it, but an intei'vening tree obliged 
him again to let it go. Having once more caught it, and com- 
ing to a more open country, he was enabled to play the young 
horse with the line until he gTadually checked and subdued 
him., so as to lead him to the place where he had left his rifle. 

He had another formidable difficulty in getting him across 
the river, where both horses stuck for a time in the mire, and 
Beatte was nearly unseated from his saddle by the force of the 



«g A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

cun^ent and tlie struggles of Ms captive, l x* mncli toil and 

trouble, however, he got across the stre^jii, and brought his 
prize safe into camp. 

For the remainder of the evening, the camp remained in a 
high state of excitement ; nothing v\t.s talked of but the caj)- 
ture of wild horses ; every youngster of the troop was for this 
harum-scarum kind of chase ; every one promised himseK to 
return from the campa,ign in triumph, bestriding one of these 
v/ild coursers of the prairies. Beatte had suddenly risen to 
great importance ; he was the prime hunter, the hero of the 
day. Offers were made hun by the best mounted rangere, 
to let him ride their horses in the chase, provided he would 
eive them a share of the spoil. Beatte bore his honoi'^ in 
eiience, and closed with none of the offers. Our stammering, 
chattering, gasconading httle Frenchman, however, made up 
for his taciturnity, by vaunting as much upon the subject as 
if it were he that had caught the horse. Indeed he held forth 
go learnedly in the matter, and boasted so much of the many 
horses he ha,d taken, that he bega,n to be considered an oracle ; 
and some of the youngsters were inclined to doubt whether ha 
were not suj)erior even to the taciturn Beatte. 

The excitement kept the camp awake later than usual. The 
hum of voices, interrupted by occasional peals of laughter, was 
heard from the groups around the various fires, and the night 
was considerably advanced before ail had sunk to sleep. 

With the morning dawn the excitement revived, and Beatte 
and his wild horse were again the gaze and taJk of the camp. 
The captive had been tied all night to a tree among the other 
horses. He was again led forth by Beatte, by a long halter or 
lariat, and, on his manifesting the least restiveness, was, as 
before, jerked and worried into passive submission. He ap- 
peared to be gentle and docile by nature, and had a beautiiTdly 
mild expression of the eye. In his strange and forlorn situa- 
tion, the poor animal seemed to seek protection and companion- 
eliip hi the very horse which had aided to capture him. 

Seeing him thus gentle and tractable, Beatte, just as we were 
about to march, strapped a light pack upon his back, by way 
of giving him the first lesson in servitude. The native prido 
and independence of the animal took fire at this indignity. 
He reared, and plunged, and kicked, and tried in every way to 
get rid of the degrading burden. The Indian vras too potent 
for hhn. At every paroxysm he renewed the di=--cipline of the 
halter, until the poor annual, driven to despair, threw himself 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 77 

prostrate on the ground, and lay motionless, as if acknowl- 
edging himself vanquished. A stage hero, representing the 
despair of a capfcive pi-ince, could not have played his part 
more dramatically. There was absolutely a moral grandeur 
in it. 

The imperturbable Beatte folded his arms, and stood for a 
time, looking down in silence upon his captive; until seeing 
him perfectly subdued, he nodded his head slowly, screwed his 
mouth into a sardonic smile of triumph, and, with a jerk of 
the halter, ordered him to rise. He obeyed, and from that 
time forward offered no resistance. During that day he bore 
his pack patiently, and was led by the halter; but in two days 
he followed voluntarily at large among the supernumerary 
horses of the troop. 

I could not look without compassion upon this fine young 
animal, whose whole course of existence had been so suddenly 
revereed. From being a denizen of these vast pastures, rang- 
ing at will from plain to plain and mead to mead, cropping of 
every herb and flower, and drinldng of every stream, he was 
suddenly reduced to perpetual and painful servitude, to pass 
his life under the harness and the curb, amid, perhax^s, the din 
and dust and drudgery of cities. The transition in. his lot was 
such as sometimes takes place in human affairs, and ii\ the for- 
tunes of towering individuals : — one day, a prince of the prai- 
ries — the next day, a pack-horse 1 



CHAPTER XXI. 



THE FORDING OF THE RED FORK. — THE DREARY FORESTS OF THE 
** CROSS TEVIBER." — BUFFALO I 

We left the camp of the wild horse about a quarter before 
eight, and, after steering nearly south for three or four miles, 
arrived on the banks of the Red Fork, about seventy-five 
miles, as we supposed, above its mouth. The river was about 
three hundred yards wide, wandering among sand-bars and 
shoalSc Its shores, and the long sandy banks that stretched 
out into the stream, were printed, as usual, with the traces of 
various animals that had come down to cross it, or to drink its 
"waters. 



78 A TOUR ON THE PBAIPJE8. 

Here we came to a halt, and there was much consultation 
about the possibility of fording the river with safety, as there 
was an apprehension of quicksands. Beatte, who had been 
somewhat in the rear, came up while we were debating. He 
was mounted on his horse of the half -wild breed, and leading 
his captive by the bridle. He gave the latter in charge to To- 
nish, and without saying a word, urged his horse mto the 
stream, and crossed it in safety. Every thing was done by this 
man in a similar way, promptly, resolutely, and silently, with- 
out a previous promise or an after vaunt. 

The troop now followed the lead of Beatte, and reached the 
opposite shore without any mishap, though one of the pack- 
horses wandering a little from the track, came near being 
swallowed up in a quicksand, and was with difficulty di-agged 
to land. 

After crossing the river, we had to force our way, for nearly 
a mile, through a tliick canebrake, vfhich, at first sight, ap- 
peared an impervious mass of reeds and brambles. It was a 
hard struggle ; our horses were often to the saddle-girths in 
mire and water, and both horse and horseman harassed and 
torn by bu-sh and brier. Failing, however, upon a buffalo 
track, we at length extricated ourselves from this morass, and 
ascended a ridge of land, where we beheld a beautiful open 
country before us ; while to our right, the belt of forest land, 
called "The Cross Timber," continued stretching away to the 
southward, as far as the eye could reach. We soon abandoned 
the open coimtry, and struck into the forest land. It was the 
intention of the Captain to keep on southwest by south, and 
traverse the Cross Timber diagonally, so as to come out upon- 
the edge of the great western prairie. By thus maintaining 
something of a southerly direction, he trusted, while he crossed 
the belt of the forest, he would at the same tune approach the 
Red River. 

The i)Ian of the Captain was judicious; but he erred from 
not being informed of the nature of the country. Had he 
kept directly west, a couple of days would have carried us 
through the forest land, and we might then have had an easy 
course along the skirts of the upper prairies, to Red River ; by 
going diagonally, we were kept for many weary days toiling 
through a dismal series of rugged forests. 

The Cross Timber is about forty miles in breadth, and 
stretches over a rough country of rolling hills, covered with 
scattered tracts of post-oak and black-jack ; with some inter- 



A TOUR ON THE PBAIIUES. 79 

vening valleys, which, at proper seasons, would afford good 
pasturage. It is very much cut up by deep ravines, which, in 
the rainy seasons, are the beds of temporary streams, tribu- 
tary to the main rivers, and these are called " branches." The 
whole tract may present a pleasant aspect in the fresh time of 
the year, when the groimd is covered with herbage ; when the 
trees are in their green leaf, and the glens are enlivened by 
running streains. Unfortunately, we entered it too late in the 
season. The herbage was parched ; the foliage of the scrubby 
forests was withered ; the whole woodland prospect, as far as 
the eye could reach, had a brown and arid hue. The fires 
made on the prairies "by the Indian hunters, had frequently 
penetrated these forests, sweeping in light transient flames 
along the dry grass, scorching and calcining the lower twigs 
and branches of the trees, and leaving them black and hard, so 
as to tear the flesh of man and horse that had to scramble 
through them. I shall not easily forget the mortal toil, and 
the vexations of flesh and spirit, that we underwent occasion- 
ally, in our wanderings through the Cross Timber. It was 
^ 'ke struggling through forests of cast iron. 

After a tedious ride of several miles, we came out i- on an 
open tract of hill and dale, interspersed with woodland. Here 
we were roused by the cry of buffalo! buffalo! The effect T/as 
something hke that of the cry of a sail ! a sail ! at sea. It was 
not a false alarm. Three or four of those enormous animals 
were visible to our sight grazing on the slope of a distant hill 

There was a general movement to set off in pursuit, and 
it was with some difficulty that the vivacity of the yoimger 
men of the troop could be restrained. Leaving orders that 
the line of march should be preserved, the Captain and two 
of his officers departed at quiet a pace, accomiDanied by Beatte, 
and by the ever-forward Tonish ; for it was impossible p.ny 
longer to keep the little Frenchman in check, being half crazy 
to prove his skill and prowess in hunting the buffalo. 

The intervening hiUs soon liid from us both the game and 
the huntsmen. We kept (5n our course in quest of a camp- 
ing place, which was difficult to be found; almost all the 
channels of the streams being dry, and the countiy being des- 
titute of fountain heads. 

After proceeding some distance, there was again a cry of 
buffalo, and two were pointed out on a hill to the left. The 
Captain being absent, it was no longer possible to restrain the 
ardor of the young hunters. Away several of them dashed, 



80 A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 

full speed, and soon disappeared among the ravines; the rest 
kept on, anxious to find a proper place for encampment. 

Indeed we now began to experience the disadvantages of the 
season. The pasturage of the prairies was scanty and parched ; 
the pea- vines which grew in the woody bottoms were withered, 
and most of the ' ' branches" or streams were dried up. 'While 
wandering in tliis perplexity, we were overtaken by the Cap- 
tain and all his party, except Tonish. They had pm'sued the 
buffalo for some distance without getting within shot, and had 
given up the chase, bemg fearful of fatiguing then" horees, or 
being led off too fa.r from camp. The little Frenchman, how- 
ever, had galloped after them at headlong speed, and the 
last they saw of him, he was engaged, as it were, yard-arm 
and yard-arm, with a great buffalo bull, firing broadsides into 
him. ''I tink dat httle man crazy — somehow," observed 
Beatte, dryly. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE A.LARM CAMP. 

We now came to a halt, and had to content ourselves with 
an indifferent encampment. It was in a grove of scruboaks, 
on the borders of a deep ravine, at the bottom of v/hich were 
a few scanty pools of water. We were just at the foot of 
a gradually -si oping hiU, covered with half-withered grass, that 
afforded meagi-e pasturage. In the spot where we had en- 
camped, the gi^ass was high and parched. The view around us 
was circumscribed and much shut in hj gently swelling hills. 

Just as we were encamping, Tonish arrived, all glorious, 
from his hunting match ; his white horse hung all round with 
buffalo meat. According to his own account, he had laid low 
two mighty bulls. As usual, we deducted one half from his 
boastings; but, now that he had something real to vaunt 
about, there was no restraining the valor of his tongue. 

After having in some measu-re appeased his vanity by boast- 
ing of his exploit, he informed us that he had observed the 
fi-esh track of horses, which, from various circumstances, he 
suspected to have been made by some roving band of Pawnees. 
This caused some little uneasiness. The young men who 
had left the line of march in pursuit of the two buffaloes, had 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. Q\ 

not yet rejoined us ; apprehensions were expressed that they 
might be waylaid and attacked. Our v-etcran hunter, old 
Ryan, also, immediately on our halting to encamp, had gone 
off on foot, in company with a young disciple. ' ' Dat old man 
will have his brains knocked out by de Pawnees yet," said 
Beatte. "He tink he know every ting, but he don't know 
Pawnees, anyhow." 

Takmg his rifle, the Captain repaired on foot to reconnoitre 
the country from the naked summit of one of the neighbor- 
ing hills. In the meantime, the horses were hobbled and 
turned loose to graze ; and wood was cut, and fires made, to 
prepare the evening's repast. 

Suddenly there was an alarm of fire in the cainp ! The flame 
from one of the kindling fires had caught to the tell dry grass; 
a breeze was blov/ing ; there was danger that the cam]) would 
soon be wrapped in a light blaze. " Look to the horses !" cried 
one; "Drag away the baggage !" cried another. "Take care 
of the rifles and powder-horns !" cried a third. All was hurry- 
sciu'ry and uproar. The horses dashed wildly about; some 
of the men snp.tched away rifles and powder-horns, others 
dragged off saddles and saddle-bags. Meantime, no one 
thought of quelling the fire, nor indeed knew how to quell it. 
±>ealoe, however, and his comrades attacked it in the Indian 
mode, beating down the edges of the fire with blankets and 
horse-cloths, and endeavoring to prevent its spreading among 
the grass ; the rangers f oUovv^ed their example, and in a little 
while the flames were happily quelled. 

The fires were now properly kindled on places from which 
the dry grass had been cleaned away. The horses were scat- 
tered about a small valley, and on the sloping hill -side, crop- 
ping the scanty herbage. Tonish was preparing a sumptuous 
evening's meal from his buffalo meat, promising us a rich soup 
and a prime piece of roast beef: but we were doomed to ex- 
perience another and more serious alarm. 

There was an indistinct cry from some rangers on the sum- 
mit of the hfll, of which we could only distinguish the words, 
" ITie horses ! the horses ! get in the horses !" 

Immediately a clamor of voices arose ; shouts, inquiries, re- 
plies^" were all mijigled together, so that nothing could be 
clearly understood, and every one drew his own inference. 

" The Captain has started' buffaloes," cried one, "and wants 
horses for the chase." Immediately a number of rangers 
seized their rifles, and scampered for the hill-top. " The prai- 



82 ^ TOVR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 

rie is on fire beyond the hill," cried another; "I see the 
smoke— the Captairi means we shall drive the horses beyond 
the brook." 

By this time a ranger from the hill had reached the skirts of 
the camp. He was almost breathless, and could only say that 
the Captain had seen Indians at a distance. 

"Pawnees! Pawnees!" was now the cry among our wild- 
headed youngsters. " Drive the horses into camp !" cried one. 
"Saddle the horses !" cried another. " Form the hne !" cried a 
third. Tiiere -was now a scene of clamor and confusion that 
baffles ail description. The rangers were scampering about 
the adjacent -field in pursuit of their horses. On& might be 
seen tugging his steed along by a halter ; another without a 
hat, riding bare-backed; another driving a hobbled horse be- 
fore him, that made g-wkward leaps like a kangaroo. 

The alarm increased. "Word was brought from the lower 
end of the camp that there was a band of Pawnees in a neigh- 
boring valley. They had shot old Ryan through the head, and 
were chasing his companion ! ' ' No, it was not old Ryan that 
was killed — it was one of the hunters that had been after the 
two buffaloes." " There are three hundred Pawnees just be- 
yond the hill," cried one voice. " More, more!" cried another. 

Our situation, shut in among hills, prevented our seeing to 
any distance, and left us a prey to all these rumors. A cruel 
enemy was supposed to be at hand, and an immediate attack 
apprehended. The horses by this time were driven into the 
camp, and were dashing about among the fires, and trampling 
upon the baggage. Every one endeavored to prepare for 
action ; but here was the perplexity. During the late alarm of 
fire, the saddles, bridles, rifles, powder-horns, and other equip- 
ments, had been snatched out of their j)laces, a,nd thrown 
helter-skelter among the trees. 

" Where is my saddle?" cried one. " Has any one seen my 
lifle?" cried another. "Who will lend me a ball?" cried a 
tMrd, who was loading his piece. "I have lost my bullet 
pouch." " For God's sake help me to girth this horse!" cried 
another: "he's so restive I can do nothing with him." In his 
hurry and worry, he had put on the saddle the hind part be- 
fore ! • 

Some affected to swagger and talk bold ; others said nothing, 
but went on steadily, preparing their horses and weapons, and 
on these I felt the most reliance. Some were evidently excited 
and elated with the idea of an encounter with Indians ; and 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 8;> 

none more so than my young Swiss fellow-traveller, who had a 
passion for wild adventure. Our man, Beatte, led his horses 
in the rear of the camp, placed his rifle against a tree, then 
seated himself by the fire in perfect silence. On the other 
hand, little Tonnish, who was busy cooking, stopped every 
moment from his work to play the fanfaron, singing, svv^ear- 
iiig, and affecting an unusual hilarity, which made me strong- 
ly suspect there was some httle fright at bottom, to cause all 
this effervescence. 

About a dozen of the rangers, as soon as they could saddle 
their horses, dashed off in the dii-ection in which the Pawnees 
were said to have attacked the hunters. It was now deter- 
mined, in case our camp should be assailed, to put our horses 
in the ravine in the rear, where they would be out of danger 
from arrow or rifie-ball, and to take our stand witliin the edge 
of the ravine. This would serve as a trench, and the trees and 
thickets with which it was bordered, w^ould be sufficient to 
turn aside m\j shaft of the enemy. The Pawnees, besides, are 
wary of attacking any covert of the kind ; their warfare, as I 
have already observed, lies in the open prairie, where, mounted 
upon their fleet horses, they can swoop like hawks upon their 
enemy, or wheel about him and discharge their arrows. Still 
I could not but perceive, that, in case of being attacked by 
such a number of these well-mounted and war-like savages as 
were said to be at hand, we should be exposed to considerable 
risk from the inexxDerience and want of discipline of our newly 
raised rangers, and from the very courage of many of the 
younger ones who seemed bent on adventure and exploit. 

By tiiis time the Captain reached the camp, and every one 
crowded round him for information. He informed us, that 
he had proceeded some distance on his reconnoitring expedi- 
tion, and was slowly returning toward the cam]), along the 
brow of a naked hill, when he saw something on the edge of a 
parallel hill, that looked like a man. He paused and watched 
it ; but it remained so perfectly motionless, that he supposed it 
a bush, or the top of some tree beyond the hill. He resumed 
liis course, when it likewise began to move in a parallel direc- 
tit)n. Another form now rose beside it, of some one who had 
either been lying down, or had just ascended the other side of 
the hill. The Captain stopped and regarded them ; they like- 
wise stopped. He then lay down upon the grass, and they 
began to walk. On his rising, they again stopped, as if watch- 
ing him. Elnowing that the Indians are apt to have theii' spies 



84 -4 TOUR ON THE PRAIlUm. 

and sentiriS'ls thus posted on the summit of naked hilis, com- 
manding extensive prospects, hi.s doubts were increased by the 
suspicious movements of these men. He now put his foraging 
cap on the end o c his rifle, and waved it in the air. They took no 
notice of the signal. He then walked on, until he entered the 
edge of a wood, which concealed him from their view. Stop- 
ping out of sight for a. moment, he again looked forth, when 
he saw the two men passing swiftly forv/ard. As the hill on 
which they v/ere walking made a curve toward that on which 
he stood, it seemed as if they were endeavoring to head him 
before he should reach the camp. Doubting whether they 
might not belong to some large party of Indians, either in 
ambush or moving along the valley beyond the hill, the Cap- 
tain hastened his steps homeward, and, descrying some rangers 
on an eminence between him and the camp, he called out to 
them to pass the word to have the horses driven in, as these 
are generally the first objects of Indian depredation. 

Such v\^ae! the origin of the alarm which had tlirown the 
camp in commotion. Some of those who heard the Captain's 
narration, had no doubt that the men on the hill were Pawnee 
scouts, belonging to the band that had waylaid the hunters. 
Distant shots were heard at intervals, which were supposed to 
be fired hj those who had sallied out to rescue their comrades. 
Several more rangei*s, having completed their equipments, 
now rode forth in the direction of the firing; others looked 
anxious and uneasy. 

" If they are as numerous as they are said to be," said one^ 
*' and as well mounted as they generally are, wc shall be a bad 
match for them with our jaded horses." 

"Well," replied the Captain, "we have a strong encamj)- 
ment, and can stand a siege. " 

"Ay, but th.Qj may set fire to the prairie in the night, and 
burn us out of our encampment." 

' ' We will then set up a counter-fire !" 

The word was now passed that a man on horseback ap- 
proached the camp. 

" It is one of the hunters ! It is Clements ! He bring-s buffalo 
meat !" was announced by several voices as the horseman drew 
near. 

It was. in fact, one of the rangers who had set off in the 
morning in pursuit of the two buffaloes. He rode into the camp, 
Vvuth the spoils of the chase hanging round his horse, and fol- 
lowed })y his companions, aJl sound and miharmed , and equally 



A TOUR ON THE PllAIRIES. 85 

well laden. Tliey proceeded to give an account of a gnmd 
gallop they had had after the two buffaloes, smd how many 
shots it had cost them to bring one to the ground. 

"Well, but the Pawnees— the Pawnees—where are the 
Pa^vnees?" 

"What Pawnees?" 

' ' The Pawnees that attacked you. " 

"No one attacked us." 

"But have you seen no Indians on your way?" 

" Oh yes, two of us got to the top of a hill to look out for the 
camp, and saw a fellow on an opposite hill cutting queer an- 
tics, wdio seemed to bo an Indian." 

"Pshaw! that was 11" said the Captain. 

Here the bubble burst. The whole alarm had risen from 

this mutual mistake of the Captain and the two rangers. As 

to the report of t^e three hundred Pawnees and their a;ttack 

on the hunters, it proved to be a wanton fabrication, of wliich 

^ no further notice was ta^ken; though the author desei^ed to 

■ have been sought out, and severely punished. 

There being no longer any prospect of fighting, every one 
now thought of eating; and here the stomachs throughout the 
camp Vv^ere in unison. Tonish served up to us his promise^] 
regale of buffalo soup and buffalo beef. The soup was pep- 
pered most horribly, and the roast beef proved the bull to have 
been one of the patriarchs of the praii-ies; never did I have to 
deal with a tougher morsel. However, it was our first repast- 
f on buffalo meat, so we ate it with a lively faith ; nor would our 
Mttie Frenchman aUow us any rest, until he had extorted from 
us an acknowledgment of the excellence of his cookery ; though 
the pepper gave us the lie in our throats. 

The night closed in without the return of old Ryan and his 
companion. Y\^e had become accustomed, however, to the 
aberrations of tliis old cock of the woods, and no further solici- 
tude was expressed on his account. 

After the fatigties and agitations of the day, the camp soon 
sunk into a profound sleep, excepting those on guard, v/ho were 
more than usup.lly on the alert : for the traces recently seen 
of Pawnees, and the certainty that we were in the midst of 
their hunting grounds, excited to constant vigilance. About 
half past ten o'clock we were all startled from sleep by a new 
alarm. A sentinel had fired off Ms rifle and run into camp, 
cryuig that there were Indians at hand. 

Every one was on his legs in an instant. Some seized their 



S6 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIEB 

rifles ; some were about to saddle their horses ; some hastened 
to the Captain's lodge, but were ordered back to their respec- 
tive fires. The sentinel was examined. He declared he had 
seen an Indian approach, crawling along the ground ; where- 
upon he had fired upon hun, and run into camp. The Cap- 
tain gave it as his opinion, that the supposed Indian was a 
w olf ; he reprimanded the sentinel for deserting Ms post, and 
obliged him to return to it. Many seemed inclined to give 
credit to the story of the sentinel ; for the events of the day 
had predisposed them to apprehend lurking foes and sudden 
assaults during the darkness of the night. For a long time 
they sat round their fires, with rifle in hand, carrying on low, 
murmuring conversations, and listening for some new alarm. 
Nothing furtiier, however, occurred ; the voices gradually died 
away ; the gossipers nodded and dozed, and sunk to rest ; and, 
by degrees, tilence and sleep once more stole over the camp. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



BEAVER DAM. - BUFFALO AND HORSE TRACKS. — A PAWNEE 
TRAIL.— WILD nORSES. — THE YOUNG HUNTER AND THE BEAR. 
— CHANGE OF ROUTE. 

On mustering our forces in the morning (October 23d), old 
Ryan and his comrade were still missing ; but the Captain had 
such perfect reliance on the skill and resources of the veteran 
woodsman, that he did not think it necessary to take any 
measures with respect to him. 

Our march this day lay through the same kind of rougli 
iL)lhng country ; checkered by broAvn dreary forests of post- 
oak, and cut up by deep dry ravines. The distant fires were 
evidently increasing on the prairies. The wind had been at 
northwest for several days ; and the atmosphere had become 
so smoky, as in the height of Indian summer, that it was diflS- 
cult to distinguish objects at any distance. 

In the course of the morning, we crossed a deep stream with 
a complete beaver dam, above three feet high, making a large 
pond, and doubtless containing several families of that indus- 
trious animal, though not one showed his nose above water. 
The Captain would not permit this ampliibious commonwealth 
to be disturbed. 



A TOUR Olf Tim PRATBIES. 87 

We were now continually coming upon the tracks of buf- 
faloes and wild horses ; those of the former tended mvariably 
to the south, as we could perceive by the direction of the tram- 
pled grass. It was evident we were on the great highway of 
these migratory herds, but that they had chiefly passed to the 
southward. 

Beatte, who generally kept a parallel course several hundred 
yards distant from our line of march, to be on the lookout for 
game, and who regarded every track with the knowing eye 
of an Indian, reported that he had come upon a very suspi- 
cious trail. There were the tracks of men who wore Pawnee 
moccasons. He had scented the smoke of mingled sumach and 
tobacco, such as the. Indians use. He had observed tracks of 
horses, mingled with those of a dog ; and a mark in the dust 
where a cord had been trailed along ; probably the long bridle, 
. one end of which the Indian horsemen suffer to trail on the 
gi'ound. It was evident, they v/ere not the tracks of wild 
horses. My anxiety began to revive about the safety of our 
veteran hunter Ryan, for I had ^ken a great fancy to this 
i*eal old Leatherstocking ; every one expressed a confidence, 
however, that wherever Ryan was, he was safe, and loiew 
how to take care of himself. 

We had accomplished the gi'eater part of a weary day",s 
march, and were passing thj^ough a glade of the oak openings. 
when we came in sight of six v/ild horses, among which I 
especially noticed two very handsome ones, a gray and a roan. 
They pranced about, with heads erect, and long flaunting tails, 
offering a proud contrast to our poor, sipiritless, travel-tired 
steeds. Having reconnoitred us for a moment, they set ojff 
at a gallop, passed through a woody dingle, and in a little 
while emerged once more to view, trotting up a slope about 
a mile distant. 

The sight of these horses was again a sore trial to the vapor- 
ing Tonish, who had his lariat and forked stick ready, and was 
on the point of launching forth in pursuit, on his jaded hoi'se, 
when he was again ordered back to the pack-horses. After a 
day's journey of fourteen miles in a southwest directi- >n, we 
encamped on the banks of a small clear stream, on the nO-Hh- 
ern border of the Cross Timber; and on the ed^^Q of those 
vast prairies, that extend away to the foot of the Rocky Moim- 
tains. In turning loose the horses to graze, their bells weix» 
stuffed with grass to prevent their tinkling, lest it might be 
heard by some wandering horde of Pawnees. 



>- 



88 A TOUR ON THE PBAIFdES. 

Oiir hunters now went out in different directions, but with- 
out much success, as but one deer was brought into the camp. 
A young ranger had a long story to tell of his adventures. In 
ekii'ting the thickets of a, deep ravine lie had vf ounded a buck, 
which he plainly heard to fall among the bushes. He stopj^ed 
to fix the lock of his rifle, which was out of order, and to reload 
it ; then advancing to the edge of the thicket, in quest of his 
game, he heard a low grovrhng. Putting the branches aside, 
and steahng silently forward, he looked down into the ravine 
and beheld a huge bear dra,gging the carcass of the deer along 
the dry channel of a brook, and gTOwhng and snarling at four 
or five officious wolves, who seemed to have dropped in to take 
supper with him. 

Tlie ranger fired at the bear, but missed him. Bruin main- 
t-ained his ground and his prize, and seemed disposed to make 
battle. The wolves, too, who were evidently sharp set, drew 
off to but a small distance. As night was coming on, the 
young hunter felt dismayed at the wildness and darkness of 
the place, and the strange company he had fallen in vvnth ; so 
he quietly Vvdthdrew, and returned empty handed to the camp, 
where, having told his story, he was heartily bantered by his 
more experienced comrades. 

In the course of the evening, old Ryan c^.me straggling into 
the camp, followed by his disciple, and as usual was received 
with hearty gra,tulations. He had lost himseff yesterday, when 
hunting, and camped out all night, but had found our trail in 
the morning, and followed it up. He had passed some time at 
the beaver dam, admiring the skill and sohdity v/ith v/hich it 
had been constructed. "These beavers," said he, " are indus- 
trious little fellows. They are the knowingest varment as I 
know; and I warrant the pond was stocked with them." 

"Aye," said the Captain, "I have no doubt most of the 
small rivers we have passed are full of beaver. I would hke 
to come and trap on these waters all winter." 

" But would you not ran the chance of being attacked by 
Indians?" asked one of the company. 

' ' Oh, as to tliat, it woidd be safe enough here, in the winter 
time. There would be no Indians here until spring. I should 
want no more than two companions. Tln^ee persons are safer 
than a large number for trapping beaver. They can keep 
quiet, and need seldom fire a gun. A bear would serve them 
for food, for two months, taking ca,re to tiu-n every part of it 
to advantage." 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, 89 

A consultation was now held as to our future progress. We 
had thus far pursued a western course; and, having traversed 
the Cross Timber, were on the skii'ts of the Great Western 
Prairie. We were still, however, in a very rough country, 
where food was scarce. The season was so far advanced that 
the gTass was withered, and the prairies jdelded no pasturage. 
The pea-vines of the bottoms, also, which had sustained our 
horses for some part of the journey, were nearly gone, and for 
several days past the poor annuals had fallen off vv^ofuj iy both 
in flesh and spirit. The Indian fires on the p'-airies were 
approaching us from north, and south, and west ; they might 
spread also from the east, and leave a scorched desert between 
lis and the frontier, in which our horses might be famished. 

It was determmed, therefore, to advance no further to the 
westward, but to shape our course more to the east, so as to 
strike the north fork of the Canadian, as soon as possible, where 
we hoped to find abundance of young cane, which, at this sea- 
son of the year, affords the most nutritious pasturage for the 
horses ; and, at the same time, attracts immense quantities of 
game. Here then we fixed the limits of our tour to the Far La 
West, being within httle more than a day's march of the boun- 
dary line of Texas. 



CHAPTEE XXIV. 



SCARCITY OF BREAD. — RENCONTRE WITH BUFFALOES. — WILD TUR- 
KEYS.— FALL OF A BUFFALO BULL. 

The morning.broke brip^ht and clear, but the camp had noth' 
ing of its usual gayety. ^rhe concert of the farmyard was at 
an end ; not a cock crew, nor dog barked ; nor was there either 
singmg or laughing ; every one pursued his avocations quietly 
and gravely. The novelty of the expedition was wearing off. 
Some of the young men were getting as way-worn as their 
horses ; and most of them, unaccustomed to the hunter's life, 
began to repine at its privations. What they most felt was 
the want of bread, their rations of flour having been exhausted 
for several days. The old hunters, who had often experienced 
this want, made light of it; and Beatte, accustomed when 
among the Indians to live for months without it, considered it 
a mere article of luxury. "Bread," he would say scornfully, 
** is only fit for a child," 



00 -4 TOUR ON THE PliAIBIES. 

About a quarter before eight o'clock; we turned our backs 
upon the Far West, and set off in a southeast course, along a 
gentle valley. After riding a few miles, Beatte, who kept 
parallel with us,, along the ridge of a naked hill to our right, 
called out and made signals, as if something were coming 
round the hill to intercejDt us. Some who were near me cried 
out that it was a party of Pawnees. A skirt of thickets hid 
the approach of the supposed enemy from our view. We 
heard a trampling among the brushwood. My horse looked 
toward the place, snorted and pricked up his ears, when pres- 
ently a couple of large buffalo bulls, who had been alarmed by 
Beatte, came crashing tlu*ough the brake, and making directly 
toward us. At sight of us they wheeled round, and scuttled 
along a narrow defile of the hill. In an instant half a score 
of rifles cracked off ; there was a universal whoop and halloo, 
and away went half the troop, helter-skelter in pursuit, and 
myself among the number. The most of us soon pulled up, 
and gave over a chase which led through birch and brier, and 
break-neck ravines. Some few of the rangers persisted for 
a time; but eventually joined the line, slowly lagging one 
after another. One of them returned on foot; he had been 
thrown while in full chase ; his rifle had been broken in the 
fall, and his horse, retaining the spirit of the rider, had kept 
on after the buffalo. It was a melancholy predicament to be 
reduced to; without horse or weapon in the midst of the 
Pawnee hunting grounds. 

For my own part, I had been fortunate enough recently, by 
a further exchange, to get possession of the best horse in the 
troop; a full-blooded sorrel of excellent bottom, beautiful 
fonn, and most generous qualities. 

In such a situation it ahnost seems as if a man changes his 
nature with his horse. I felt quite like another being, now 
that I had an animal under me, spirited yet gentle, docile to 
a remarkable degree, and easy, elastic, and rapid in all his 
movements. In a few days he became almost as much at- 
tached to me as a dog; would follow me when I dismounted, 
would come to me in the morning to be noticed and caressed : 
and would put his muzzle between me and my book, as I sat 
reading at the foot of a tree. The feeling I had for this my 
dumb companion of the prairies, gave me some faint idea of 
that attachment the Arab is said to entertain for the horse 
that has borne him about the deserts. 

After riding a few miles further, we came to a fine meadow 



A TOUB ON THE PRAIBIE8. 91 

^th a broad clear stream y/ lidding through it, on the banks of 
which there was excellent pasturage. Here we at once came 
to a halt, in a beautiful grove of elms, on the site of an old 
Osage encampment. Scarcely had we dismounted, when a 
universal firing of rilies took place ui^on a large flock of tur- 
keys, scattered about the grove, which proved to be a favorite 
roosting-place for these simple birds. They flew to the trees, 
and sat perched upon then' branches, stretchmg out then- long 
necks, and gazing in stupid astonishment, until eighteen of 
them were shot down. 

In the height of the carnage, word was brought that there 
were fom* buffaloes in a neighboring meadow. The turkeys 
were now abandoned for nobler game. The tired horses were 
again mounted, and urged to the chase. In a little while we 
came in sight of the bufi'aloes, looking like brown hillocks 
among the long green herbage. Beatte endeavored to get 
ahead of them and turn them towards us, that the inexperi- 
enced hunters might have a chance. They ran round the base 
of a rocky hill, that hid us from the sight. Some of us en- 
deavored to cut across the hill, but became entrapped in a 
thick wood, matted with grape-vines. My horse, who, under 
his former rider, had hunted the buffalo, seemed as much 
excited as myself, and endeavored to force his way through 
the bushes. At length we extricated ourselves, and galloping 
over the hill, I found our Mttle Frenchman, Tonish, curvetting 
on horseback round a gTeat buffalo which he had wounded too 
severely to fly, and wliich he was keeping employed until we 
should come up. There was a mixture of the grand and the 
comic, in beholding this tremendous animal and his fantastic 
assailant. The buffalo stood with his shaggy front always 
presented to his foe ; his mouth open, his tongue parched, his 
eyes like coals of nre, and his tail erect with rage ; every now 
and then he would make a faint rush upon his foe, who easily 
evaded his attack, capering and cutting all kinds of antics 
before him. 

We now made repeated shots at the buffalo, but they 
glanced into his mountain of flesh without proving mortal. 
He made a slow and grand retreat into the shallow river, 
turning upon liis assailants whenever they pressed upon him ; 
and when in the water, took his stand there as if prepared to 
sustain a siege. A rifle-ball, however, more fatally lodged, 
sent a tremor through his frame. He turned and attempted 
to wade across the stream, but after tottering a few paces, 



92 ^ TOUR ON TUB PRAIRIES. ' 

slov/ly fell upon his side and expired. It was the fall of a hero, 
and we felt somewhat ashamed of the butchery that had 
effected it ; but, after the first shot or two, we had reconciled 
it to our feelings, by the old plea of putting the poor animal 
out of his misery. 

Tv/o other buffaloes were killed this evening, but they wei'e 
all bulls, tlie flesh of which is meagre and hard, a-t this season 
of the year. A fat buck yielded us more savory meat for our 
evening's repast. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

RINGING THS WILD HORSE, 

We left the buffalo camp about eight o'clock, and had a 
toilsome and harassing march of two hours, over ridges of 
hills, covered with a ragged meagre forest of scrub-oaks, and 
broken by deep gullies. Among the oa^ks I observed many of 
the most diminutive size; some not above a foot high, yet 
bearing abundance of small acorns. The whole of the Ci'osa 
Timber, in fact, ai,boiinds with mast. There is a pine-oak which 
produces an acorn pleasant to the taste, and ripening early in 
the season. 

About ten o'clock in the morning, we came to where this line 
of iTigged hills swept down into a valley, through which flowed 
the north fork of the Eed River. A beautiful meadow about 
half a n:iie wide, enamelled with yellow autumnal flowers, 
stretched for two or three miles along the foot of the hills, 
bordered on the opposite side by the river, wliose banks were 
fringed with cotton wood trees, the bright foliage of which re- 
freshed and delighted the eye, after being wearied by the con- 
templation of monotonous wastes of brown forest. 

The meadoY/ was finely diversified by groves and clumps of 
trees, so happil\" dispersed, that they seemed as if set out by 
the hand of art. As we cast our eyes over this fresh and de- 
lightPid valley, a-:, beheld a troop of wild horees, quietly grac- 
ing on a green lawn, about a mile distant to our right, while to 
our left, at nearly the same distance, were several buffaloes; 
some feeding, others reposing and ruminating among the high 
rich herbage, under the shade of a clump ol cottonwood trees. 
The whole had the appearance of a broad beautiful tract of 
pasture land, on the highly ornamented estate of some gentle- 



A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 9B 

man farmer, with his cattle grazing about the lawns and mear 
dows. 

A council 01 war was now held, and it was determined to 
profit by the present favorable opportunity, and try our hand 
at the grand hunting manoeuvre, which is called ringing the 
wild horse. This requires a large party of horsemen, well 
mounted. They extend themselves in each direction, singly, 
at certain distances apart, and gradually form a ring of two or 
thi-ee miles in circumference, so as to surround the game. This 
has to be done with extreme care, for the wild horse is the 
most readily alarmed inhabitant of the prairie, and can scent a 
hunter at a great distance, if to windward. 

The ring being formed, two or three ride toward the horses, 
who start off in an opposite direction. Whenever they ap- 
proach the bounds of the ring, however, a huntsman presents 
himself and turns them from their course. In this way, they 
are checked and driven back at every point ; and kept gallop- 
ing round and round tliis magic circle, until, being completely 
tired down, it is easy for the hunters to ride up beside them, 
and throw the lariat over their heads. The prime horses of 
most speed, courage, and bottom, however, are apt to break 
through and escape, so tliat, in general, it is the second-rate 
horses that are taken. 

Prepara^tions were now made for a hunt of the kind. The 
pack-horses were taken into the vroods and firmly tied to trees, 
lest, in a rush of the wild horses, they should break away with 
them. Twenty-five men T\"ere then sent under the command 
of a heutenant, to steal along the edge of the valley within the 
strip of wood that skirted the hills. They were to station 
themselves a.bout fifty yards apart, within the edge of the 
woods, and not advance or show themselves until the horses 
(lashed in that direction. Twenty-five men v/ere sent across 
the valley, to steal in like manner along the river bank that 
i>ui"-dered the opposite side, and to station themselves among 
the trees. A third party, of about the same number, was to 
form a line, stretching across the lower part of the vaUey, so 
as to connect the two wings. Bea,tte and our other half-breed, 
Antoine, together with the ever-ofiicious Tonish, were to make 
a circuit through the woods so as to get to the upper part of 
the valley, in the rear of the horses, and to drive them forward 
into the kind of sack that we had formed, while the two wings 
should join behind them and make a complete circle. 

The flanking parties were quietly extending themselves, out 



94 ^ TOUR ON TUB PRAIRIES, 

of sight, on each side of the valley, and the residue were 
stretching themselves, like the links of a chain, across it, when 
the wild horses gave signs that they scented an enero y ; snuf- 
fing the air, snorting, and looking about. At length they 
pranced off slowly tow^ard the river, and disappeared behind a 
green bank. Here, had the regulations of the chase been ob- 
served, they would have been quietly checked and turned back 
by the a,dvance of a hunter from among the trees ; unluckily, 
however, we had our wild-fire Jack-o'-lantern little Frenchman 
to deal with. Instead of keeping quietly up the right side of • 
the valley, to get above the horses, the moment he saw them 
move toward^ the river, he broke out of the covert of woods, 
and dashed furiously across the plain in pursuit of them, being 
mounted on one of the led horses belonging to the Count. This 
put an end to all system. The half-breeds and half a score ot 
rangers joined in the chase. Away they all went over the 
green bank ; in a moment or two the wild horses reappeared, 
and came thundering down the vaUey, with Frenchman, half- 
breeds, and rangers galloping and yelhng hke devils behind 
them. It was in vain that the line drawn across the valley at- 
tempted to check and turn back the fugitives. They were too 
hotly pressed by their pursuers; in their panic they dashed 
through the line, and clattered down the plain. The whole 
troop joined in the headlong chase, some of the rangers with- 
out hats or caps, their hair flying about their ears, others with 
handkerchiefs tied round theu' heads. The buffaloes, who had 
been calmly ruminating among the herbage, heaved up their 
huge forms, gazed for a moment with astonishment at the 
tempest that came scouring dov^^n the meadow, then turned 
and took to heavy-rolling fhght. They were soon overtaken ; 
the promiscuous throng were pressed together by the contract- 
ing sides of the valley, and away they went, pell-mell, hurry- 
scurry, wild buffalo, wild horse, wild huntsman, with clang 
and clatter, and whoop and halloo, that made the forests ring. 
At length the buffaloes turned into a green brake on the 
river bank, while the horses dashed up a narrow defile of the 
hills, with their pursuers close at their heels. Beatte passed 
several of them, having fixed his eye upon a fine Pa^^vnee horse, 
that had his ears slit, and saddle-marks upon his back. He 
pressed him gallantly, but lost him in the woods. Among the 
wild horses was a fine black mare, far gone with foal. In 
scrambling up the defile, she tripped and fell. A young ranger 
sprang from Ms horse, and seized her by the mane and muzzle. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 95 

Another ranger dismounted, and came to his assistance. The 
rnare struggled fiercely, kicking and biting, and striking with 
her fore feet, but a noose was slipped over her head, and her 
struggles were in vain. It vvas some time, however, before 
she gave over rearing and plunging, and lashing out with her 
feet on every side. The two rangers then led her along the 
valley by two long lariats, which enabled them to keep at a 
sufficient distance on each side to be out of the reach of her 
]iOofs, and whenever she struck out in one direction, she was 
jerked in the other. In this way her spirit was gradually sub- 
dued. 

As to little Scaramouch Tonish, who had marred the whole 
Bcene by his precipitancy, he®had been more successful than he 
deserved, having managed to catch a beautiful cream-colored 
colt, aboufc eeven months old, v/hich had not strength to keep 
up with its companions. The mercurial little Frenchman was 
beside himself with exultation. It was amusing to see him 
V7ith his prize. The colt would I'ear and kick, and struggle to 
get free, when Tonish would take him about the neck, Avrestle 
with him, jump on his back, and cut as many antics as a mon- 
key with a kitten. Nothing surprised me more, however, than 
to witness how soon these poor animals, thus taken from the 
unbounded freedom of the prairie, yielded to the dominion of 
man. In the course of two or three days the mare and colt 
went with the led horses, and became quite docile. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

FORDING OF THE NORTH FORK. — DREARY SCENERY OF THE CROSS 
TIMBER. — SCAMPER OF HORSES IN THE NIGHT.— OSAGE WAB 
PARTY. — EFFECTS OF A PEACE HARANGUE. —BUFFALO. — WILD 

HORSE. 

Resuming our march, we forded the North Fork, a rapid 
stream, and of a purity seldom to be found in the rivei'S of the 
praii-ies. It evidently had its sources in high land,, weU sup- 
phed with springs. After crossing the river, we again as- 
cended among liills, from one of which we had an extensive 
view over this belt of cross timber, and a cheerless prospect it 
was ; hill beyond hill, forest beyond forest, all of one sad rus- 
set hue— excepting that here and there a line of green cotton- 



96 - A TOUR ON Tim PRAIBIES. 

wood trees, sycamores, and ttHJows, marked the coui'se of 
8ome streamlet through a valley. A procession of buffaloes}, 
moving slowly up the profile of one of those distant hills, 
formed a characteristic object in the savage scene. To the 
left, the eye stretched beyond this rugged wilderness of hills, 
and ravines, and ragged forests, to a prairie about ten miles 
off, extending in a clear blue line along the horizon. It was 
like looking from among rocks and breakers upoii a distant 
tract of tranquil ocean. Unluckily, our route did not lie in 
that direction ; we still had to traverse many a weary mile of 
the " cross timber. " 

We encamped toward evening in a valley, beside a scanty 
pool, under a scattered grove of elms, the upper brai\ches of 
which were fringed with tufts of the mystic mistletoe. Tn the 
course of the night, the wild colt whinnied repeated ij': and 
about two hours before day, there v/as a sudden stamjjedo, or 
rush of horses, along the purlieus of Lhe camp, with a snorting 
and ncigliing, and clattering of hoofs, that startled most of the 
rangers from their sleep, who hstened in silence, until the 
sound died away lilie the rushing of a blast. As usual, the 
noise was at first attributed to some party of mar-auding In- 
dians, but as the day dawned, a. couple of wild horses were 
seen? in a neighboring meadow, which scoured off on being 
approached. It was now supposed that a gang of them had 
dashed through our camp in the night. A general mustering 
of our horses took place, many were found scattered to a con- 
siderable distance, and several were not to be found. The 
I^iiits of their hoofs, however, appeared deeply dinted in the 
soil, leading off at full speed into the w^aste, and their owners, 
puttmg themselves on the trail, set off in weary search of 
them. 

We had a ruddy daybreak, but the morning gathered up 
gray and lowering, with indications of an autumnal storm. 
We resumed our march silently and seriously, through a 
rough and cheerless country, from the highest points of which 
v*^e could descry large prairies, stretching indefinitely west^ 
ward. After travelling for two or three hours, as we were tra- 
versing a vvdthered prairie, resembhng a gi'eat brown heath, 
we beheld seven Osage warriors approaching at a. distance. 
Tiie sight of any human being in this lonely wilderness was 
interesting; it was like speakmg a ship at sea. One of the In- 
dians took the lead of his companions, and advanced toward 
us with head erect, chest thrown forward, and a free and noble 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 97 

mien. He was a fine-looking fellow, dressed in sca,rlet frock 
and fringed leggings of deer skin. His head was decorated 
with a white tuft, and he stepped forward with something of a 
martial air, swayin^g his bow and arrows in one hand. 

We held some conversation with him through our inter- 
preter, Beatte, and found that he and his companions had been 
with the main part of their tribe hunting the buffalo, and 
had met with great success; and he informed us, that in the 
course of another day's march, we would reacli the prairies on 
the banks of the Grand Canadian, and find plenty of game. 
He added, that as their hunt was over, and the hunters on 
their return homeward, he and his comrades had set out on a 
war party, to waylay and hover about some Pawnee camp, in 
hopes of carrying oil scalps or horses. 

By this time his companions, who at first stood aloof, joined 
him. Three of them had indifferent fowling-pieces; the rest 
were armed with bows and arrows. I could not but admire 
the finely shaped heads a-nd busts of these savages, and their 
gi-acefui attitudes and expressive gestures, as they stood con- 
versing with our interpreter, and .surrounded by a cavalcade 
of rangers. We endeavored to get one of them to join us, as 
we v/ere desti'ous of seeing him hunt the buffalo with his bow 
and arrow. He seemed at first inchned to do so, but v/as dis- 
suaded by his companions. 

Tlie worthy Commissioner now remembered his mission as 
pacificator, and made a speech, exhorting them to abstaiii 
from all offensive acts against the Pawnees ; informing them 
of the plan of their father at Washington, to put an end to all 
war among his red children ; and assming them that he was 
sent to the frontier to establish a universal peace. He told 
them, therefore, to return quietly to their homes, with the cer- 
tainty that the Pawnees would no longer molest them, but 
would soon regard them as brothers. 

The Indions listened to the si^eech with their customary 
silence and decoinim; after which, exchanging a few words 
among themselves, they bade us farewell, and pursued their 
way across the prairie. 

Fanc;>ang that I saw a lurking smile in the countenance of 
our interpreter, Beatte, I privately inquired what the Indians 
liad said to each other after hearing the speech. The leader, 
he said, had observed to his companions, that, as their great 
father intended so soon to put an end to all warfare, it be- 
hooved them to make the most of the little time that was lefl 



98 ^ TOVR ON THE PIlAirdES. 

them. So they had departed, with redoubled zeal, to f)ursue 
their project of horse-stealing ! 

We had not long parted from the Indians before we dis- 
covered three buffaloes among the thickets of a marehy valley 
to our left. I set off with the Captain and several rangers, in 
pursuit of them. Stealing through a stragghng grove, the 
Captain, who took the lead, got within rifle-shot, and woimded 
one of them in the flank. They all three made of in headlong 
panic, through thickets and brushwood, and sv/ami) and mire, 
bearing down every obstacle by their immense weight. The 
Captain and rangers soon gave up a chase which threatened 
to knock up their horses; I had got uj)on the traces of the 
wounded bull, however, and was in hopes of getting near 
enough to use my x^istols, the only weapons with v/hich I was 
pi*ovided ; but before I could effect it, he reached the foot of a 
rocky hill, covered with post-oak and brambles, and plunged 
forward, dashing and crashing clong, with neck or nothing 
fury, v.'here it vrould have been madness to have followed 
him. 

The chase had led me so far on one side, that it was some 
time before I regained the trail of our troop. As I was slowly 
ascending a hill, a fine black mare came prancing round the 
summit, and was close to me before she v/as aware. At sight 
of me she started back, then turning, swept at full speed down 
into the valley, and up the opposite hill, with flovfing mane 
and tail, and action free as air. I gazed after her as long as 
she v.^as in sight, and breathed a wish that so glorious an 
animal might never come under the degrading thraldom of 
whip and curb, but remain a fi^ee rover of the pranies. 



CHAPTER XXVn. 



FOUL WEATHER ENC A:\IPMENT. — ANECDOTES OP BEAR HUNTIXG. — 
n-TDIAll NOTIONS ABOUT 03IENS. — SCRUPLES RESPECTING THE 
DEAD. 

On ovei'taking the troop, I found it encamping in a rich 
bottom of woodland, traversed by a small stream, in.mning 
l^etween deep crumbling banks. A sharp cracking off of rifles 
was kept up for some time in various directions, upon a nu- 
merous flock of tui^eys, scampering among the thickets, or 



A TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. ^ 99 

perched upon the trees. Wo had not been long at a halt, 
when a drizzling rain ushered ii\ the autmnnal storm that 
had been brewing. Preparations were immediately made to 
weather it ; our tent was pitched, and our saddles, saddlebags, 
packages of coffee, sugar, salt, and every thing else that could 
be damaged by the rain, were gathered under its shelter. Our 
men, Beatte, Tonish, and Antoine, drove stakes with forked 
ends into the ground, laid poles across them for rafters, and 
thus made a shed or pent-house, covered with bark and skins, 
sloping toward the vv^ind, and open toward the fire. The ran- 
gers formed similar shelters of bark and skins, or of blankets 
stretched on poles, supported by forked stakes, with great fires 
in front. 

These precautions were well timed. The rain set in sullenly 
and steadily, and kept on, with slight intermissions, for two 
days. The brook which flowed joecicefully on our arrival, 
swelled into a fcurbid and boiling torrei .c, and the forest be- 
came little better than a mere swamp. The men gathered 
under theif shelters of skins and blanlvets, or sat cowering 
round their fires ; while columns of smoke curling up among 
the trees, and diffusing themselves in the air, spread a blue 
haze through the vfoodland. Our poor, way-worn horses, 
reduced by weary travel and scanty pasturage, lost all re- 
maining spirit, and stood, with drooping heads, flagging ears, 
and half-closed eyes, dozing and steaming in the rain, while 
the yellow autumnal leaves, at every shaking of the breeze, 
came wavering down around them. 

Notwithstanding the bad weather, however, our hunters 
were not idle, but during the intervals of the rain, sallied forth 
on horseback to prowl through the woodland. Every now 
and then the sharp report of a distant rifle boded the death of 
a deer. Venison in abundance was brought in. Some busied 
themselves under the sheds, flaying and cutting up the car- 
casses, or round the fires with spits and camp kettles, and 
a rude kind of feasting, or rather gormandizmg, prevailed 
throughout the camp. The axe was continually at work, 
and wearied the forest with its echoes. Crash ! some mighty 
tree would come down ; in a few minutes its limbs would be 
blazing and crackling on the huge camp fires, with some 
luckless deer roasting before it, that had once sported beneath 
its shade. 

The change of weather had taken sharp hold of our little 
Frenchman. His meagre frame, composed of bones and whip- 



iOO A TOUR QN THE PRAIRIES, 

cord, was racked with rheumatic pains and twinges. Ho had 
the toothache — ^the earache— his face was tied up— lie had 
shooting pams in every hnib ; yet all seemed but to increase 
his restless activity, and he was in an incessant fidget about 
the firo, roasting, and stewing, and groaning, and scolding, 
and SYv-earing. 

Our man Beatte returned giim and mortified, from hunting. 
He had come upon a bear of formidabie dimensions, and 
woimded him with a rifle-shot. The bear took to the brook, 
which was swollen and rapid. Beatte dashed in after him and 
assailed him in the rear with his hunting-knife. At every 
blow the bear turned furiously upon him, with a terrific dis- 
l^lay of vv^hite teeth. Beatte, havieg a loothoM in the brook, 
was enabled to purjh liim oil with his rifle, and, when he 
turned to swim, would flounder after, and attempt to ham- 
string him. The boar, however, succeeded in scrambling off 
among the thicliets, and Beatte had to give up the chase. 

This adventure, if it produced no game, brouglit up at least 
several anecdotes, round the evening fire, relative to bear 
hunting, in which tlie grizzly bear fig^u^ed conspicuously. 
This powerful and ferocious animal is a favorite theme of 
hunter's story, both among red and white men; and his 
enormous claAvs are v/orn round the neck of an Indian brave 
as a trophy more honorable than a. human scalp. He is now 
scarcely seen beloAv the upper prauies and the skirts of the 
Rocky Mountains. Other bears are formidable when wounded 
and provoked, but seldom make battle when allowed to escape. 
The grizzly bear alone, of all the animals of our Western 
wilds, is prone to unprovoked hostility. His prodigious size 
and strength make him a formidable opponent ; and his gi^eat 
tenacity of life often baffles the skill of the hunter, notwith- 
sta.nding repeated shots of- the rifle, and wounds of the hunting- 
krdie. 

One of the anecdotes related on this occasion, gave a picture 
of the accidents and hard shifts to which our frontier rovers 
are inured. A hunter, while in pureuit of a deer, fell into one 
of those deep funnel-shaped pits, formed on the prairies by the 
settling of the waters after heavy rains, and known by the 
nanie of sink -holes. To his great horror, he came in contact, 
at the bottom, v\^ith a huge grizzly bear. The monster grap- 
pled him ; a deadly contest ensued, in which the poor hunter 
was severely torn and bitten, and had a leg and an arm 
broken, but succeeded in killing his rugged foe. For several 



A TOUR (LY THE PILi TRIES. 101 

days lie remained at the bottom of the pit, too much crippled 
to move, and subsisting on the raw flesh of the bear, during 
which time he kept his wounds open, that they might heal 
gradujdiy and effectually. He was at length enabled to 
scramble to the top of the pit, and so out upon the open 
prairie. With great difficulty he crawled to a ravine, formed 
bj^ a stream, then nearly dry. Here he took a delicious 
draught of water, wliicli infused new life into him; then 
dragging himself along from pool to i^ooi, he supported him- 
self by small fish and frogs. 

One day he saw a wolf hunt down and kill a deer in the 
neighboiing prairie. He immediately crawled forth from the 
ravine, drove olf the wolf, and, lying down beside the carcass 
of the deer, remained there until he made several hearty 
meals, by which his strength was much recruited. 

Returning to the ravine, he pursued the course of the brook, 
imtil it gi'cw to be a considerable stream. Down this he 
floated, until he came to where it emptied into the Mississi]:>pi. 
Just at the mouth of the stream, he found a forked tree, which 
he launched with some difficultj^, and, getting astride of it, 
committed himself t,o the current of the mighty river. In this 
way he floated along, until he arrived opposite the fort at 
Council Bluffs. Fortunately he arrived there in the daytime, 
otherwise he might have floated, unnoticed, past this solitary 
post, and perished in the idle waste of waters. Being descried 
from the fort, a canoe was sent to his relief, and he was 
brought to shore more dead than alive, vrhere he soon re- 
covered from his wounds, but remained maimed for life. 

Our man Beatte had come out of his contest with the bear 
very much worsted and discomfited. His drenching in the 
brook, together with the recent change of weather, had 
brought on rheumatic pains in his hmbs, to which he is 
subject. Though ordinarily a fellow of undaunted spirit, 
and above all hardship, yet he now sat dov\'n by the fire, 
gloomy and dejected, and for once gave way to repiuiug. 
Though in the prime of life, and of a robust frame, and ap]*a- 
rently iron constitution, yet, by his own account, he was iittlt^ 
better than a mere wi^eck. He was, in fact, a hving monu- 
ment of the hardships of wild frontier hfe. Baring his left 
a.rm, he showed it warped and contracted by a former attack 
of rheumatism: a malady v/ith which the Indians are often 
afflicted ; for their exposure to the vicissitudes of the elements 
does not produce that perfec!; hardihood and insensibility to 



102 ^^ TOUR ON TlIE PRAiniES. 

the changes of the seasons that many are apt to imagine. He 
bore the scars of various maims and bruises ; some received in 
hunting, some in Indian warfare. His right arm had been 
broken by a fall from his horse ; at another time his steed had 
fallen with him, and crushed liis left leg. 

"I am all broke to pieces and good for nothing," said he ; "I 
no care now v/hat happen to me any more." "However," 
added he, after a moment's pause, ' ' for all that, it would take 
a pretty strong man to put me down, anyhow. " 

I drew from him various particulars concerning himself, 
which served to raise him in my estimation. His residence 
VA^as on the Neosho, in an Osage hamlet or neighborhood, 
under the superintendence of a worthy missionary from the 
banks of the Hudson, by the name of Requa, who was endea- 
voring to instruct the savages in the art of agriculture, and to 
make husbandmen and herdsmen of them. I had visited this 
agricultural mission of Requa in the course of my recent tour 
along the frontier, and had considered it more likely to pro- 
duce solid advantages to the poor Indians than any of the 
mere praying and preaching missions along the border. 

In this neighborhood, Pierre Beatte had his little farm, his 
Indian Avif e, and his half-breed children ; and aided Mr. Eequa 
in his endeavors to civilize the habits, and meliorate the con- 
dition of the Osage tribe. Beatte had been brought up a 
Catholic, and was mflexible in his religious faith; he could not 
pray with Mr. Requa, he said, but he could work with him, 
and he evinced a zeal for the good of his savage relations and 
neighbors. Indeed, though his father had been French, and 
he himself had been brought up in communion with the 
whites, he evidently was more of an Indian in his tastes, and 
his heart yearned toward his mother's nation. When he 
talked to me of the wrongs and insults that the poor Indians 
suffered in their intercourse with the rough settlers on the 
frontiers; Y\^hen he described the precarious and degraded 
state of the Osage tribe, diminished in numbers, broken in 
spirit, and almost hving on sufferance in the land where they 
once figured so heroically, I could see his veins swell, and his 
nostrils distend with indignation ; but he would check the feel- 
ing with a strong exertion of Indian self-connnand, and, in a 
manner, drive it back into his bosom. 

He did not hesitate to relate an instance wherein he had 
joined his kindred Osages, in pursuing and avenging them- 
selves on a party of white men who had committed a flagrant 



A TOUB ON TUE PRAIRIES. 103 

outrage upon them ; and I found, in the encounter that took 
place, Beatte had shown himself the complete Indian. 

He had more than once accompanied his Osage relations in 
their wars with the Pawnees, and related a skirmish wiiich 
took place on the borders of these very hunting grounds, in 
which several Pawnees were killed. We should pass near the 
place, he said, in the course of our toiu-, and the unburied 
bones and skulls of the slain were still to be seen there. The 
surgeon of the troop, who was present at our conversation, 
pricked up his ears at this intelligince. He was something of 
a phrenologist, and offered Beatte a handsome reward if he 
would procure him one of the skulls. 

Beatte regarded him for a moment with a look of stern sur- 
pi'ise. 

"No!" said he at length, " dat too bad ! I have heart strong 
enough — I no care kill, but let the dead alone !'■ 

He added, that once in travelhng with a party of white men, 
he had slept in the same tent with a doctor, and found that he 
hi\& a Pawnee skull among his baggage : he at once renounced 
the doctor's tent, and his fellowship. " He try to coax me," 
sa,id Beatte, ''but I say no, we must part— I no keep such 
company." 

In the temporary depression of his spirits, Beatte gave way 
to those superstitious forebodings to which Indians are prone. 
He had sat for some tune, with his cheek upon his hand, 
gazing into the fire. I found his thoughts were wanderiug 
back to his humble home, on the banks of the Neosho ; he was 
sure, he said, that he should find some one of his family ill, or 
dead, on his return: his left eye had twitched and twinlded 
for two days past ; an omen which always boded some misfor- 
tune of the kind. 

Such are the trivial circumstances which, when magnified 
into omens, will shake the souls of these men of iron. The 
least sign of mystic and sinister portent is suincient to turn a 
hunter or a warrior from his course, or to fill his mind with 
apprehensions of impending evil. It is this superstitious pro- 
pensity, common to the soHtary and savage rovers of the, 
wilderness, that gives such powerfid influence to the prophet 
and the dreamer. 

The Osages, with whom Beatte had passed much of his hfe, 
retain these superstitious fancies and rites in much of their 
original force. They aU believe in the existence of the soul 
after its separation from the body, and that it carries with it 



;[04 A TOUE ON THE PRAIRIES. 

all its mortal tastes and habitudes. At an 0.--;ago village in the 
neigliborhood of Bcatte, one of the chief warriors lost an only 
cliiid, a beautiful giii, of a very tender age. All her playthings 
were buried with her. Her favorite little horse, a.lso, was 
killed, and laid in the grave beside her, that she might have it 
to ride in the land of spirits. 

I v/ill here add a little storj^, which I picked up in the course 
of my tour through Beatte's country, and which illustrates the 
BViiierstitions of his Osage kindred. A large party of Osages 
had been encamped for some time on the borders of a fine 
stream, called the Nickanansa. Among them was a young 
hunter, one of the bravest and most gi'aceful of the tribe, who 
was to be married to an Osage girl, who, for her beauty, was 
called the Flower of the Prairies. The young hunter left her 
for a time among her relatives in the encampment, and went 
to St. Louis, to dispose of the products of his hunting, and 
purchase ornaments for his bride. After an absence of some 
weeks, he returned to the banks of the Nickanansa, but the 
camp was no longer there ; and the bare frames of the lodges 
and the brands of extinguished fires alone marked the place. 
At a distance he beheld a female seated, as if weeping, by the 
side of the stream. It vv^as his affianced bride. He ran to em- 
brace her, but she turned mournfully away. He dreaded lest 
some evil had befallen, the camp. 

" Where are our people?" cried he. 

" They are gone to the banks of the Yfagrushka." 

" And what art thou doing here Pvlone?" 

' ' Wai'ting for thee. " 

^ ' Then lot us hasten to join our people on the banks of the 
"WagTuslika." 

He gave her his pack to carry, and v/alked ahead, avccording 
to the Indian custom. 

They came to where the smoke of the distant camp was seen 
rising from the vf oody margin of the stream. The girl seated 
herself at the foot of a tree. " It is not proper for us to return 
I together, "'' said she; "I will wait here." 

t The young hunter proceeded to the camp alone, and was re- 
ceived by his relations with gloomy countenances. 

"What evil has happened," said he, "that ye are all so 
sad ?" 

No one replied. 

He turned to his favorite sister, and bade her go forth, seek 
his bride, and conduct her to the camp. 



A TOUR OX THE PRAIRIES. 105 

" Alas !"'cried she, "how shall I seek her? She died a few 
days since." 

The relations of the young girl now surromided him, weep- 
ing and wailing ; but he refused to believe the dismal tidings, 
"But a few moments since," cried he, " I left her alone and in 
health; come with me, and I Avill conduct you to her." 

He led the way to the tree where she had seated herself, but 
ohe was no longer there, a.nd his pack lay on the ground. The 
fatal truth struck him to the heart ; he fell to the ground dead. 

I give this simple story almost in the words in Y%'-hich it was 
related to me, as I lay by the fire in an evening encampment 
on the banks of the haunted stream where it is said to have 
happened. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A SECRET EXPEDITION.— DEER BLEATING. —MAGIC BALLS. 

On the following morning we were rejoined by the rangers 
who had remained at the last enceanpment, to seek for the 
stray horses. They had tracked them for a considerable dis- 
tance through bush and brake, s^d across streams, until they 
found them cropping the herbage on the edge of a prairie. 
Their heads were in the direction of the fort, and they were 
evidently grazing their way homeward, heedless of the un- 
bomided freedom of the prairie so suddenly laid open to them. 

About noon the weather held up, and I observed a mysteri- 
ous consultation going on betAveen our half-breeds and Tonish ; 
it ended in a request that we would dispense with the services 
of the latter for a few hours, and permit him to join his com- 
rades in a grand foray. We objected that Tonish was too 
much disabled by aches and pains for such an undertaking ; 
but he was wild with eagerness for the mysterious enterprise, 
and, when permission was given him, seemed to forget all liis 
^ihIlents in an instant. 

In a short time the trio were equipped and on horseback ; 
with rifles on their shoulders and handkerchiefs twisted round 
their heads, evidently bound for a grand scamper. As they 
jDassed by the different lodges of the camp, the vainglorious 
Httle Frenchman could not help boasting to the right and left 
of the great tilings he vv'-as about to achieve ; though the taci- 
turn Beatte, who rode in advance, would every now and then 



IQi) A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

check iaJs horse, and look back at him with an air of stern re- 
buke. It was hard, however, to make the loquacious Tonish 
play '' Indian." 

Several of the hunters, likewise, salhed forth, and the prime 
old woodman, Ryan, came back early in the afternoon, with 
ample spoil, having Idlled a buck and two fat does. I drew 
near to a group of rangers that had gathered round liim as he 
stood by the spoil, and found they were discussing the merits 
of a stratagem sometimes used in deer hunting. This consists 
in imitating, with a small instrument called a bleat, the cry of 
the fawn, so as to lure the doe within reach of the rifle. There 
are bleats of various kinds, suited to calm or windy weather, 
and to the age of the fawn. The poor animal, deluded by 
them, in its anxiety about its young, wdll sometimes advance 
close up to the hunter. " I once bleated a doe," said a young 
hunter, ''until it came witiiin twenty yards of me, and pre- 
sented a sure mark. I levelled my rifle three times, but had 
not the heart to shoot, for the poor doe looked so wistfully, 
that it in a manner made my heart yearn. I thought of my 
own mother, and how anxious she used to be about me when I 
was a child ; so to put an end to the matter, I gave a halloo, 
and started the doe out of rifle-shot in a moment." 

' ' And you did right, " cried honest old Ryan. ' ' For my part, 
I never could bring myself to bleating deer. I've been with 
hunters who had bleats, and have made them throw them 
away. It is a rascally trick to take advantage of a mother's 
love for her young." 

Toward evening our three worthies returned from their 
mysterious foray. The tongue of Tonish gave notice of their 
approach long before they came in sight ; for he was vocifer- 
ating at the top of his lungs, and rousing the attention of the 
whole camp. The lagging gait and reeking flanks of their 
horses, gave evidence of hard riding ; and, on nearer approach, 
we found them hung round with meat like a butcher's sham- 
bles. In fact, they had been scouring an immense prairie that 
extended beyond the forest, and which was covered with herds 
of buffalo. Of this prairie, and the animals upon it, Beatte 
had received intelligence a few days before, in his conversation 
with the Osages, but had kept the information a secret from 
the rangers, that he and his comrades might have the first dash 
a^t the game. They had contented themselves with killing four ; 
though, if Tonish might be beheved, they might have slain 
them by scores. 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 107 

These tidings, and the buffalo meat brought home in evi- 
dence, spread exultation through the camp, and every one 
looked for\7ard with joy to a buffalo hunt on the prairies. 
Tonish v/as again the oracle of the camp, and held forth by the 
hour to a knot of listeners, crouched round the fire, vvith their 
shoulders up to their ears. He was now more boastful than 
ever of liis skill a.s a marksman. All his want of success in the 
early part of our march he attributed to being "out of luck," 
if not "spell-bound;" and finding himself listened to ^ath ap- 
parent credulity, gave an instance of the kind, which he de- 
clared had happened to hhnself, but which was evidently a 
tale picked up among his relations, the Osages. 

According to this account, when about fourteen years of age, 
as he was one day hunting, he saw a white deer come out from 
a ravine. Crawling near to get a shot, he beheld another and 
another come forth, until there were seven, all as white as 
snow. Ilavmg crept sufficiently near, he singled one out and 
fired, but v/ithout effect ; the deer remained unfrightened. He 
loaded and fired again and missed. Thus he continued firing 
and missing until all his ammunition was expended, and the 
deer remained without a woimd. He returned home despair- 
ing of his skill as a. marksman, but was consoled by an old 
Osage hunter. These white deer, said he, have a charmed life, 
and can only be killed by bullets of a particular kind. 

The old Indian cast several bails for Tonish, but would not 
suffer him to be present on the occasion, nor inform him of the 
mgrediciits and mystic ceremonials. 

Provided with these balls, Tonish again set out in quest of 
the white deer, and succeeded in finding them. He tried at 
first with ordinary balls, but missed as before. A magi ? ball, 
however, immediately brought a fine buck to the groiuid.. 
Whereupon the rest of the herd immediately disappeared and 
were never seen again. 

October 29lh.— The morning opened gloomy and lowering; 
but toward eight o'clock the sun struggled forth and lighted 
up the forest, and the notes of the bugle gave signal to pre- 
pare for marching. Now began a scene of bustle, and clamor, 
and gayety. Some were scainpering and brawling after 
their horses, some were riding in bare-backed, and driving 
in the horses of their comrades. Some v\'ere stripping the 
poles of the wet blankets that had served for shelters ; others 
packing up with all possible dispatch, and loading the bag- 
gage horses as they arrived, while others were cracking off 



108 ^ TOUR ON THE PUAiniES. 

their damp rifles and charging them afresh, to be rea.dy for 
the sport. 

About ten o'clock, we began our march. I loitered in the 
j-ear of the troop as it forded the turbid brook, and defiled 
through the labyrinths of the forest. I always felt disposed to 
linger until the last straggler disappeared among the trees and 
the distant note of the bugle died upon the ear, that I might 
behold the wilderness relapsing into silence and solitude. In 
the present instance, the deserted scene of our late bustling en- 
campment had a forlorn and desolate appearance. The sur- 
rounding forest had been in many places trampled into a quag- 
mire. Trees felled and partly hewn in pieces, and scattered in 
huge fragments ; tent-poles stripped of their covering ; smoul- 
dering fires, with great morsels of roasted venison and buffalo 
meat, standing in wooden spits before them, hacked and 
slashed by the knives of hungry hunters ; while around were 
strewed the hides, the horns, the antlers, and bones of buffa- 
loes and deer, with uncooked joints, and unplucked turkeys, 
lelt behind with that reckless improvidence and wastefulness 
which young hunters are apt to indulge when in a neighbor- 
hood where game abounds. In the meantime a score or two 
of turkey-buzzards, or vultures, were already on the ■^ving, 
wheeling their magnificent flight high in the air, and prejiaring 
for a descent upon the camp as soon as it should be abandoned. 



CHAPTER XXIX, 

THE GRA^^) PRAIRIE. — A BUFFALO HUNT. 

After proceeding about two hours in a southerly direction, 
We emerged toward mid-day from the dreary belt of the Cross 
Tinil)er, and to our infinite delight beheld "the great Prairie" 
stretching to the right and left before us. We could distinctly 
trace the meandering course of the main Canadian, and various 
smaller streams, by the strips of green forest that bordered 
them. The landscape was vast and beautififl. There is always 
an expansion of feeling in looking upon these boundless and 
fertile wastes ; but I was doubly conscious of it after emerging 
from our "close dungeon of innumerous boughs." 

From a rising ground Beatte pointed out the place where he 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 109 

and his comrades had killed the buffaloes ; and we beheld sev- 
eral black objects moving in the distance, v/hich he said were 
part of the herd. The Captain determined to shaT'O his course 
to a woody bottom about a mile distant, and to encamp there 
for a day or two, by way of having a regula^r buffalo hunt, and 
getting a supply of pro^'isions. As the troop defiled along the 
slope of the hill toward the camping ground, Beatte proposed 
to my messmates and mj-^self, that we should put ourselves 
under his guidance, promising to take us where we should 
have plenty of sport. Leaving the line of march, there- 
fore, we diverged toward the prairie ; ti'aversing a small val- 
ley, and ascending a gentle swell of 'land. As we reached 
the sunnnit, we beheld a gang of wild horses about a mile off. 
Beatte was inmiediately on the alert, and no longer thought of 
buffalo hunting. He was mounted on his powerful half -wild 
horse, with a lariat coiled at the saddle-bow, and set off in pur- 
suit ; wliile we remained on a rising ground watching his ma- 
noeuvres with great solicitude. Taking advantage of a strip of 
woodland, he stole quietly along, so as to get close to them be- 
fore he was perceived. The moment they caught sight of him 
a grand scamper took place. We watched him skirting along 
the horizon like a privateer in full chase of a merchantman ; 
at length he passed over the brow of a ridge, and down into a 
shallow vaUey ; in a few moments he was on the opposite hill, 
and close upon one of the horses. He was soon head and head, 
and appeared to be trying to noose his prey ; but they both dis- 
appeai'cd again beloAv the hill, and we saw no more of them. 
It turned out afterward that he had noosed a powerful horse, 
but could not hold him, and had lost his lariat in the attempt. 

Wliile we were waiting for liis return, we perceived two 
buffalo buUs descending a slope, toward a stream, which 
wound through a raTTine fringed with trees. The young Count 
and myself endeavored to get near them under covert of the 
trees. They discovered us while we were yet three or four 
hundred yards off', and turning about, retreated up the rising 
ground. We urged our horses across the ravine, and gave 
(diase. The immense w^eight of head and shoulders causes the 
buffalo to labor heavily up hill; but it accelerates his descent. 
We had xh'^ advantage, therefore, and gained rapidly upon the 
fugitives, though it was difficult to get our horses to approach 
them, their very scent inspiring them with terror. The Count, 
who liad a double-barrelled gun loaded with ball, fired, but it 
missed. The bulls now altered their ccnise, and galloped down 



110 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

hiil with headlong rapidity. As they ran in different direc: 
lions, we each singled out one and separated. I was provided 
with a brace of veteran brass-barrelled pistols, which I had 
borrowed at Fort Gibson, and which had evidently seen some 
s^/ service. Pistols are very effective in buffalo hunting, as the 
hunter can ride up close to the animal, and fire at it while at 
full speed ; whereas the long heavy rifles used on the frontier, 
cannot be easily managed, nor discharged with accurate aim 
from horseback. My object, therefore, was to get within 
pistol shot of the buffalo. This was no very easy matter. I 
was well mounted on a horse of excellent speed and bottom, 
that seemed eager for the chase, and soon overtook the game ; 
but the moment he came nearly parallel, he would keep sheer- 
• ing off, with ears forked and pricked forward, and every 
symptom of aversion and alarm. It was no Avonder. Of all 
animals, a buffalo, when close pressed by the hunter, has an 
aspect the most diabolical. His two f^hort black horns, curve 
out of a huge frontier of shaggy hair ; his eyes glow like coals ; 
hi3 mouth is open, his tongue parched and drawn up into a 
half crescent; his tail is erect, and tufted and whisking about 
in the air, he is a perfect picture of mingled rage and terror. 

It was Avith difficulty I urged my horse sufficiently near, 
T/hen, taking aim, to my chagrin, both pistols missed fire. 
Unfortunately the locks of these veteran weapons were so 
much worn, that in the gallop, the priming had been shaken 
out of the pans. At the snapping of the last pistol I was close 
upon the buffalo, when, in his despair, he turned round with a 
cudden snort and rushed upon me. My horse wheeled about 
as if on a pivot, made a convulsive spring, and, as I had been 
leaning on on© side with pistol extended, I came near being 
thrown at the f«ttt of the buffalo. 

Three or four bounds of the horse carried us out of the reach 
of the enemy ; who, having merely turned in desperate self- 
defence, quickly resumed his flight. As soon as I could gather 
in my panic-stricken horse, and prime the pistols afresh, I 
again spurred in pursuit of the buffalo, who had slackened liis 
speed to take breath. On my approach he again set off full 
tilt, heaving hmiself forward with a heavy I'olling gallop, dash- 
mg v/ith headlong j)i'"^ip^tation through brakes and ravines, 
while several deer and wolves, sta.rtled from their coverts by 
his thundering career, ran helter-skelter to right and left acro;:s 
the vraste. 

A gaUop across the prairies in pursuit of game is by no 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. HI 

means so smooth a career as those may unagine, who have 
only the idea of an open level plain. It is true, the prairies of 
the hunting gi'ound are not so much entangled mth flowering 
plants and long herbage as the lower prairies, and are princi- 
pally covered with short buffalo grass ; but they are diversi- 
fied by hill and dale, and where most level, are apt to be cut 
up by deep rifts and ravines, made by torrents after rains; 
and which, yawning from an even surface, are almost like 
pitfalls in the way of the hunter, checking him suddenly, when 
in full career, or subjecting him to the risk of limb and life. 
The plains, too, are beset by burrowing holes of small animals, 
in which the horse is apt to sink to the fetlock, and throw both 
himself and his rider. The late rain had covered some parts 
of the prairie, where the ground was hard, with a thin sheet 
of water, through which the horse had to splash his way. In 
other parts there were innumerable shallow hollows, eight or 
ten feet in diameter, made by the buffaloes, who wallow in 
sand and mud like swine. These being filled with water, 
shone like mirrors, so that the horse was continually leaping 
over them or springing on one side. We had reached, too, a 
rough part of the prairie, very much broken and cut up ; the 
buffalo, who was running for life, took no heed to his course, 
plunging down break-neck ravines, where it was necessary to 
skirt the borders in search of a safer descent. At length we 
came to where a winter stream had torn a deep chasm across 
the whole prairie, leaving open jagged rocks, and forming a 
long glen bordered by steep crumbling cliffs of mingled stone 
and clay. Down one of these the buffalo flung himself, half 
tumbhng, half leaping, and then scuttled along the bottom; 
while I, seeing all further pursuit useless, pulled up, and 
gazed quietly after him from the border of the cliff, until he 
disappeared amidst the windings of the ravine. 

Nothing now remained but to turn my steed and rejoin my 
coinpanions. Here at first was some little difficulty. The 
ardor of the chase had betrayed me into a long, heedless gallop. 
I now found myself in the midst of a lonely waste, in which 
the prospect was bounded by undulating swells of land, naked 
and uniform, where, from the deficiency of landmarks and 
distinct features, an inexperienced man may become be- 
wildered, and lose his way as readily as in the wastes of the 
ocean. The day, too, was overcast, so that I could not guide 
myself by the sun; my only mode was to retrace the track 
my horse had made in coming, though this I would often 



112 -^ TOUR Oy THE TRAIE11£S. 

lose sight of, where the ground was .covered with parched 
herbage. 

To one unaccustomed to it, there iii sometliing inexpressibly- 
lonely in the solitude of a prairie. The loneliness of a forest 
seems nothing to it. There the view is shut in by trees, and 
the imagination is left free to picture some livelier scene be- 
yond. But here we have an immense extent of landscape 
without a sign of human existence. We have the conscious- 
ness of being far, far beyond the bounds of human habita- 
tation ; we feel as if moving in the midst of a desert world. 
As my horse lagged slowly back over the scenes of our late 
scamper, and the delirium of the chase had passed avv^ay, I 
was peculiarly sensible to these circumstances. The silence of 
the waste was now and then broken by the cry of a distant 
flock of pehcans, stalking like spectres about a shallow pool ; 
sometimes by the sinister croaking of a raven in the air, while 
occasionally a scoundrel wolf would scour off from before me : 
and, having attained a safe distance, would sit down and howl 
and whine with tones that gave a dreariness to the surround- 
ing solitude. 

After pursuing my Vx^ay for some time, I descried a horseman 
on the edge of a distant hill, and soon recognized him to be the 
Count. He had. been equally unsuccessful with myself; we 
were shortly after rejoined by our worthy comrade, the Vir- 
tuoso, who, with spectacles on nose, had made two or three 
ineffectual shots from horseback. 

We determined not to seek the camp until we had made 
one more effort. Casting our eyes about the siuTounding 
waste, Ave descried a herd of buffalo about two miles dis- 
tant, scattered apart, and quietly grazing near a small strip 
of trees and bushes. It required but little stretch of fancy 
to picture them so many cattle grazing on the edge of a 
com^mon, and that the grove might shelter some ]owly farm- 
house. 

We nov/ formed our plan to circumvent the herd, and by 
getting on the other side of tliem., to hunt tlicm in the directior 
where we knew our camp to be situated : otherwise the pursui 
might take us to such a distance as to render it impossible to 
find our way back before nightfall. Taking a v/ide circuit, 
therefore, we moved slowly and cautiously, pausing occa- 
sionally, when we saw any of the herd desist from giTizing. 
The wind fortunately set from them, otherwise they might 
have scented us and have taken the alarm. In this way we 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 113 

succeeded in getting round the herd without disturbing it. 
It consisted of about forty head, bulls, cov/s, and calves. 
Separating to some distance from each other, we now ap- 
proached slowly in a parallel line, hoping by degrees to steal 
near without exciting attention. They began, however, to 
move off quietly, stopping at every step or two to graze, when 
suddenly a bull that, unobserved by us, had been taking his 
siesta under a clump of trees to our left, roused himself from 
his lair, and hastened to join his companions. We were still 
at a considerable distance, but the game had taken the alarm. 
We quickened our pace, they broke mto a gallop, and now 
commenced a full chase. 

As the ground was level, they shouldered along with great 
speed, following each other in a line ; two or three bulls bring- 
ing up the rear, the last of whom, from his enormous size and 
venerable frontlet, and beard of sunburnt hair, looked like the 
patriarch of the herd ; and as if he might long have reigned 
the monarch of the prairie. 

There is a mixture of the av>rful and the comic m the look of 
these huge animals, as they bear theu' great bulk forward, 
with an up and down motion of the unwieldy head and 
shoulders ; their tail cocked up like the queue of Pantaloon in 
a pantomime, the end whisking about in a fierce yet whimsical 
style, and their eyes glarmg venomously with an expression 
of fright and fury. 

For some time I kept parallel with the line, without being 
able to force my horse within pistol shot, so nmch had he been 
alarmed by the assault of the buffalo in the preceding chase. 
At length I succeeded, but w^as* again balked by my pistols 
missing fire. My companions, whose horses were less fleet, 
and more way-worn, could not overtake the herd ; at length 
Mr. L., who was in the rear of the line, and losing ground, 
levelled his doubie-ba,rrelled gun, and fired a long raking shot. 
It struck a buffalo just above the loins, broke its back-bone, 
and brought it to the ground. He stopped and alighted to 
dispatch his prey, when borrovving his gun, which had yet a 
charge remaining in it, I put my horse to his speed, again over- 
took the herd which was thundering along, pursued by the 
Count. With my present weapon there Vv^as no need of urging 
my horse to such close quarters; galloping along parallel, 
therefore, I smgled out a buffalo, and by a fortunate shot 
brought it down on the spot. The ball had struck a vital part ; 
it could not move from the place where it fe^, but lay there 



114 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

struggling in mortal agony, while the rest of the herd kept on 
their headlong career across the prairie. 

Dismounting, I now fettered my horse to prevent his stray- 
ing, and advanced to contemplate my victim. I am nothing of 
a sportsman ; I had been prompted to this unwonted exploit by 
the magnitude of the game, and the excitement of an adven- 
turous chase. jSIow that the excitement was over, I could not 
but look with commiseration upon the poor animal that lay 
struggling and bleeding at my feet. His very size and impor- 
tance, which had before inspired ma with eagerness, now 
increased my compunction. It seemed as if I had inflicted 
pain in proportion to the bulk of my victim, and as if it were 
a hundred-fold greater waste of life than there would have 
been in the destruction of an animal of inferior size. 

To add to these after-qualms of conscience, the poor animal 
lingered in his agony. He had evidently received a mortal 
wound, but death might be long in coming. It would not do 
to leave him here to be torn piecemeal, while yet alive, by the 
wolves that had already snuffed his blood, and were skulking 
and howling at a distance, and waiting for my departure ; and 
by the ravens that were flapping about, croaking dismally in 
the air. It became now an act of mercy to give him his 
quietus, and put him out of his misery. I primed one of the 
pistols, therefore, and advanced close up to the buffalo. To 
inflict a wound thus in cold blood, I found a totally different 
thing from firing in the heat of the chase. Taking aim, how- 
ever, just behind the fore-shoulder, my pistol for once proved 
true; the ball must have passed through the heart, for the 
animal gave one convulsive throe and expired. 

While I stood meditating and moralizing over the wreck I 
had so wantonly produced, with my horse grazing near me, I 
was rejoined by my fellow-sportsman, the Virtuoso; who, 
being a man of universal adroitness, and withal, more experi- 
enced and hardened in the gentle art of " venerie," soon man- 
aged to carve out the tongue of the buffalo, and delivered it to 
me to bear back to the camp as a trophy. 



A TOUR ON THE PEAUUES. 115 



CHAPTER XXX. 

A COMRADE LOST. — A SEARCH FOR THE CAMP. — THE COMMISSIONER, 
THE WILD HORSE, AND THE BUFFALO. — A WOLF SERENADE. 

Our solicitude was now awakened for the young Count. 
With his usual eagerness and impetuosity he had persisted in 
urging his jaded hoi'se in pursuit of the herd, unwilhng to 
return without having likewise killed a buffalo. In this way 
he had kept on following them, hither and thither, and 
occasionally firing an ineffectual shot, until by degrees horse- 
man and herd became indistinct in the distance, and at length 
swelling ground and strips of trees and thickets hid them 
entireb/ from sight. 

By the time my friend, the amateur, joined me, the young 
Count had been long lost to view. We held a considtation on 
the matter. Evening Avas drawing on. Were we to pursue 
him, it would be dark before we should overtake him, grant- 
ing we did not entirely lose trace of him in the gloom. We 
should then be too much bewildered to find our way back to 
the encampment; even now, our return would be difficult. 
"We determined, therefore, to hasten to the camp as speedily 
as possible, and send out our half-breeds, and some of the 
veteran hunters, skilled in cruising about the prairies, to 
search for our companion. 

We accordingly set forward in what we supposed to be the 
direction of the camp. Our weary horses could, hardly be 
urged beyond a walk. The twilight thickened upon us; the 
landscape grew gradually indistinct ; we tried in vain to recog- 
nize various la^ndmarks which we had noted in the morning. 
The features of the prairies are so smiilar as to baffle the eye 
of any but an Indian, or a practised woodman. At length 
night closed in. We hoped to see the distant glare of camp- 
fires; we listened to catch the sound of the bells about the 
necks of the grazing horses. Once or twice we thought wo 
distinguished them; we were mistaken. Nothing was to be 
heard but a monotonous concert of insects, with now and 
then the dismal howl of wolves mingling with the night breeze. 
We began to think of halting for the night, and bivouacking 
under the lee of some thicket. We had implements to strike a 



116 -^ TOUR ON TliK PBAllilES. 

light ; there was plenty of firewood at hand, and the tongues 
01 our bultaloep would lurnish us v/ith a repast. 

Just as we were preparing to dismount, we heard the report 
of a rifle, and short!}' after, the notes of the bugle, calling up 
the night guard. Pushing forward in that direction, the camp 
tires soon broke on our sight, gleaming at a distance from 
among the tliick groves of an alluvial bottom. 

As we entered the camp, we found it a scene of rude hun- 
ters' revelry and wassail. There had been a grand day's 
sport, in which all had taken ?i part. Eight buffaloes had been 
killed; roarmg fires were blazmg on every side; all hands 
were feasting upon roasted joints, broiled marrow-bones, and 
the juicy hump, far-famed among the epicures of the prairies. 
Right glad were we to dismount and partake of the sturdy 
cheer, for we had been on our weary horses since morning 
without tasting food. 

As to our worthy friend, the Commissioner, with whom v/e 
had parted company at the outset of this eventful day, we 
found him lying in a corner of the tent, much the worse for 
wear, in the course of a successful hunting match. 

It seems that our man, Beatte, in his zeal to give the Com- 
missioner an opportunity of distinguishing himself, and grati- 
fying his hunting propensities, had mounted him upon his 
half-wild horse, and started him in pursuit of a huge buffalo 
bull, that had already been frightened by the hunters. The 
horse, which was fearless as his owner, and, like him, had a 
considerable spice of do^il in his composition, and who, 
besides, had been made familiar v^^ith the game, no sooner 
came in sight and scent of the buffalo, than he set off full 
speed, bearing the involuntary hunter hither and thither, and 
whither he would not — up hill and down hill — leaping pools 
and brooks — dashing through glens and gullies, until he came 
up ^vith the game. Instead of sheering off, he crowded upon 
tire buffalo. The Commissioner, almost in self-defence, dis- 
charged both barrels of a double-barrelled gun into the enemy. 
The broadside took effect, but was not mortal. The buffalo 
turned furiously upon his pursuer ; the horse, as he Jiad been 
taught by his owner, wheeled oft'. The buffalo plunged after 
him. Tlie worthy Connnissioner, in great extremit}^, drew 
his sole pistol from his holster, fired it off as a stern-chaser, 
shot the buffalo full ii\ the breast, and brought him lumbering 
forward to the earth. 

The Commissioner returned to camp, lauded on all sides for 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIBIES. 117 

his signal exploit ; but grievously battered and way-worn. He 
had been a hard rider perforce, and a victor in spite of himself. 
He turned a deaf ear to all coniplunents and congratulations ; 
had but little stomach for the hunter's fare placed before him, 
and soon retreated to stretch his limbs in the tent, declaring 
that nothing should tempt him aga,in to mount that half devil 
Indian horse, and that he had had enough of buffalo hunting 
for the rest of his life. 

It was too dark now to send any one in search of the young 
Count. Guns, however, were fired, and the bugles sounded 
from time to time, to guide him to the camp, if by chance he 
should straggle within hearing ; but the night advanced with- 
out his making his appearance. There was not a star visible 
to guide him, and we concluded that wherever he was, he 
would give uj) wandering in the dark, and bivouac until day- 
break. 

It Avas a raw, overcast night. The carcasses of the buffaloes 
killed in the vicinity of the camp had drawn about it an un- 
usual number of wolves, who kept up the most forlorn concert 
of whining yells, prolonged into dismal cadences and inflex- 
ions, literally converting the surrounding waste into a howling 
wilderness. Nothing is more melancholy than the midnight 
howl of a wolf on a prairie. What rendered the gloom and 
v/ildness of the night and the savage concert of the neighbor- 
ing waste the more dreary to us, was the idea of the lonely and 
exposed situation of our young and inexperienced comrade. 
We trusted, however, that on tlio return of daylight, he woidd 
find his way back to the camp, and then all the events of the 
night would be remembered only as so many savory gratifica- 
tions of his passion for adventure. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

A HUNT FOR A LOST COMRADE. 



The morning dawned, and an hour or two passed without 
any tidings of the Count. '- "We began to feel uneasiness lest, 
lia^ang no compass to aid liim, he might perplex himself and 
wander in some opposite direction. Stragglers are thus often 
lost for days ; what made us the more anxious about him was, 



118 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

that he had no provisions with him, was totally unversed in 
"woodcraft," and hable to fall into the hands of some lurking 
or straggling party of savages. 

As soon as our people, therefore, had made their breakfast, 
we beat up for volunteers for a cruise in search of the Count. 
A dozen of the rangers, mounted on some of the best and 
freshest horses, and armed with rifles, were soon ready to 
start; our half-breeds Beatte and Antoine also, with our little 
mongrel Frenchman, were zealous in the cause ; so Mr. L. and 
myself taking the lead, to show the way to the scene of our 
little hunt where we had parted company with the Count, we 
all set out across the prairie. A ride of a couple of miles 
brought us to the carcasses of the two buffaloes we had killed. 
A legion of ravenous wolves were already gorging upon 
them. At our api)roach they reluctantly drew off, skulking 
\vith a caitiff look to the distance of a few hundred yards, and 
there awaiting our departure, that they might return to their 
banquet. 

I conducted Beatte and Antoine to the spot whence the 
young Count had continued the chase alone. It was like 
putting hounds upon the scent. They immediately distin- 
guished the track of his horse amidst the trampings of the 
buffaloes, and set off at a round pace, following with the eye 
in nearly a straight course, for upward of a mile, when they 
came to where the herd had divided, and run hither and 
thither about a meadow. Here the track of the horse's hoofs 
wandered and doubled and often crossed each other ; our half- 
breeds were like hounds at fault. While we were at a ha,lt, 
waiting until they should unravel the maze, Beatte suddenly 
gave a short Indian whoop, or rather yelp, and pointed to a 
distant hill. On regarding it attentively, we perceived a 
horseman on the summit. "It is the Count!" cried Beatte, 
and set off at full gallop, followed by the whole company. 
In a few moments he checked his horse. Another figure on 
horseback had appeared on the brow of the hill. This com- 
pletely altered the case. The Count had wandered off alone ; 
no other person had been missing from the camp. If one of 
these horsemen were indeed the Count, the other must be an 
Indian. If an Indian, in all probability a Pawnee. Perhaps 
they were both Indians; scouts of some party lurking in the 
vicinity. While these and other suggestions were hastily dis- 
cussed, tlio two horsemen glided do^vn from the profile of the 
hUl, and wc lost sight of them. One of the rangers suggested 



A TOUR OW THE PRAIRIE 8. 119 

that there might be a straggling party of Pawnees behind 
the hill, and that the Count might have fallen into their 
hands. The idea had an electric effect upon the little troop. 
In an instant every horse was at full speed, the half-breeds 
leading the way ; the young rangers as they rode set up wild 
yelps of exultation at the thoughts of having a brush with the 
Indians. A neck or nothing gallop brought us to the skirts of 
the hill, and revealed our mistake. In a ravine vv^e found the 
two liorsemen standing by the carcass of a buffalo which they 
held killed. They proved to be two rangers, who, unperceived, 
had left the camj) a little before us, and had come here m a 
direct line, while we had made a wide circuit about the 
prairie. 

This episode being at an end, and the sudden excitement 
being over, we slowly and coolly retraced our steps to the 
meadow; but it was some time before our half-breeds could 
again get on the track of the Count. Having at length found 
it, they succeeded in following it through all its doublings, 
until they came to where it was no longer mingled with the 
tramp of buffpJoes, but became single and separate, wandermg 
here and there about the prairies, but always tending in a 
direction opposite to that of the camp. Here the Count had 
evidently given up the pursuit of the herd, and had endeav- 
ored to find his way to the encampment, but had become 
bewildered as the evening shades thickened around him, and 
had completely mistaken the points of the compass. 

In all this quest our half-breeds displayed that quickness of 
eye, in following up a track, for which Indians are so noted. 
Beatte, especially, was as staunch as a veteran hound. Some- 
times he would keep forward on an easy trot ; his eyes fixed on 
the ground a Httle ahead of his horse, clearly distinguishing 
prints in the herbage which to me were invisible, excepting 
on the closest inspection. Sometimes he would pull up and 
walk his horse slowly, regarding the ground intensely, where 
to my eye nothing was apparent. Tiien he would dismount, 
lead his horse by the bridle, and advance cautiously step by 
step, with his face bent towards the earth, just catching, here 
and there, a casual indication of the vaguest kind to guide 
hini onward. In some places where the soil was hard and the 
grass withered, he would lose the track entirely, and wander 
backward and forward, and right and left, in search of it; 
returning occasionally to the place where he had lost sight of 
it, to take a new departure. If this failed he would examine 



120 -4 TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

the banks of the neighboring streams, or the sandy bottoms oi 
the ravines, in hoi^es of finding tracks whei^e the Count had 
crossed. When he again came upon the track, he would 
remount his horse, and resume his onward course. At length, 
after crossing a stream, in the crumbling banks of which the 
hoofs of the horse were deeply dented, we came upon a high 
dry prairie, v/here our ha.lf-breeds were completely baffled. 
Not a foot-print was to be discerned, though they searched in 
every direction; and Beatte, at length coming to a pause, 
shook his head despondingly. 

Just then a small herd of deer, roused from a neighboring 
ravine, came bounding by us. Beatte sprang from his horse, 
levelled his rifle, and wounded one slightly, but without bring- 
ing it to the ground. The report of the rifie was almost 
immediately followed by a long halloo from a distance. We 
looked around, but could see notliing. Another long halloo 
was heard, and at lengiih a Jiorseman was descried, emerging 
out of a skirt of forest. A single glance showed him to be the 
young Count ; there was a universal shout and scamper, every 
one setting off full gallop to greet him. It was a joyful meet- 
ing to both parties; for, much anxiety had been felt by us 
all on account of his youth and inexperience, and for his part, 
with all his love of adventure, he seemed right glad to be once 
more among his friends. 

As we supposed, he had completely mistaken his course on 
the preceding evening, and had wandered about until dark, 
when he thought of bivouacking. The night was cold, yet he 
feared to make a fire, lest it might betray him to some lurking 
party of Indians. Hobbling his horse with his pocket hand- 
kerchief, and leaving him to graze on the margin of \h.Q prairie, 
he clambered into a tree, fixed his saddle in the fork of the 
branches, and placing himself securely with his back against 
the trunk, prepared to pass a dreary and anxious night, 
regaled occasionally with the howhngs of the wolves. He was 
agreeably disappointed. The fatigue of the day soon brought 
on a sound sleep ; he had delightful dreams about his honic in 
Switzerland, nor did he wake imtil it was broad daylifdit. 

He then descended from his roosting-place, mounted his 
horse, and rode to the naked summit of a hill, whence he be- 
hold a trackless wilderness around him, but, at no great dis- 
tance, the Grand Canadian, winding its way between borders 
of forest land. The sight of this river consoled him with the 
idea that, should he fail in finding his way back to the camp, 



A toul: OS Tilt; rnAipjES. 121 

or in being found by some party of his conu-ades, he might 
follow the course of the stream, vv^hich could not fail to conduct 
him to some frontier post, or Indian hamlet. So closed the 
events of our hap-hazard buffalo hunt. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

A REPUBLIC OF PRAIRIE DOGS. 

On returning from our expedition in quest of the young 
Count, I learned that a burrow, or village, as it is termed, of 
prairie dogs had been discovered on the level summit of a 
hill, about a mile from the camp. Having heard much of the 
habits and peculiarities of these little animals, I determined to 
pay a visit to the community. The prairie dog is, in fact, one 
of the curiosities of the Far West, about which travellers de- 
light to tell marvellous tales, endowing him at times with 
something of the politic and social habits of a rational being, 
and giving him systems of civil government and domestic 
economy, almost equal to what they used to bestow upon the 
beaver. 

The prairie dog is an animal of the coney kind, and about 
the size of a rabbit. He is of a sprightly mercuiial nature; 
quick, sensitive, and somewhat petulant. He is very grega- 
rious, hving in large communities, sometimes of several acres 
in extent, where innumerable little heaps of earth show the 
entrances to the subterranean cells of the inhabitants, and 
the well beaten tracks, like lanes and streets, show their mo- 
bihty and restlessness. According to the accounts given of 
them, they would seem to be continuaUy full of sport, business, 
and pubhc affairs ; wliisking about hither and thither, as if on 
gossiping visits to each other's houses, or congregating in the 
cool of the evening, or after a shoAver, and gambolling together 
in the open air. Sometimes, especially when the moon shines, 
they pass half the night in reveh-y, barking or yelping with 
short, quick, yet weak tones, like those of very young puppies. 
While in the height of their playfulness and clamor, however, 
should there be the least alarm, they all vanish into their cells 
in an instant, and the village remains blank and silent. In 
case they are hard pressed by their pursuers, without any 



122 ^ TOUR ON TEE PRAIRIES. 

hope of escape, they -will assiune a pugnacious air, and a most 
"whimsical look of impotent wrath and defiance. 

Tlie prairie dogs are not permitted to remain sole and undis- 
turbed inhabitants of their own homes. Owls and rattlesnakes 
are said to take up their abodes with them; but whether as 
invited guests or unwelcome intruders, is a matter of contro- 
versy. The owls are of a peculiar kind, and would seem to 
partake of the character of the hawk ; for they are taller and 
more erect on then* legs, more alert in their looks and rapid in 
their flight than ordinary owls, and do not confine their ex- 
cursions to the night, but saUy forth in broad day. 

Some say that they only inhabit cells Avhich the prairie 
dogs have deserted, and suffered to go to ruin, in consequence 
of the death in them of some relative ; for they would make 
out this little animal to be endowed with keen sensibilities, 
that will not permit it to remain in the dwelling where it has 
witnessed the death of a friend. Other fanciful speculators 
represent the owl as a kind of housekeeper to the prairie dog ; 
and, from having a note very sunilar, insinuate that it acts, 
in a manner, as family preceptor, and teaches the young litter 
to bark. 

As to the rattlesnake, nothing satisfactory has been ascer- 
tained of the part he plays in this most interesting household ; 
though he is considered as little better than a sycophant and 
sharper, that winds himself mto the concerns of the honest, 
credulous little dog, and takes him in most sadly. Certain it 
is, if he acts as toad-eater, he occasionally solaces himself with 
more than the usual perquisites of his order ; as he is now and 
then detected with one of the younger members of the family 
in his maw. 

Such are a few of the particulars that I could gather about 
the domestic economy of this little inhabitant of the prairies, 
who, with his pigmy repubHc, appears to be a subject of much 
whimsical speculation and burlesque remarks among the hun- 
ters of the Far West. 

It was toward evening that I set out with a companion, to 
visit the village in question. Unluckily, it had been invaded 
in the course of the day by some of the rangers, who had shot 
two or three of its inhabifcants, and thrown the whole sensitive 
community in confusion. As we approached, we could per- 
ceive numbers of the inhabitants seated at the entrances of 
their cells, while sentinels seemed to have been posted on the 
outskirts, to keep a look-out. At sight of ue, the picket 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 123 

guards scampered in and gave the alarm; whereupon every 
inhabitant gave a short yelp, or bark, and dived into his hole, 
his heels twinkling in the air as if he had thrown a somersault. 

We traversed the whole village, or republic, which covered 
an area of about thirty acres ; but not a vdiisker of an inhabi- 
tant was to be seen. We probed their cells as far as the ram- 
rods of our rifles would reach, but could unearth neither dog, 
nor owl, nor rattlesnake. Moving quietly to a little distance, 
vv^e lay down upon the ground, and watched for a, long time, 
silent and motionless. By and by, a cautious old burgher 
Avould slowly put forth the end of his nose, but instantly draw 
it in again. Another, at a greater distance, would emerge 
entirely; but, catching a glance of us, would throw a somer- 
sault, and plunge back again into his hole. At length, some 
who resided on the opposite side of the village, taking courage 
from the continued stillness, would steal forth, and hurry off 
to a distant hole, the residence possibly of some family connec- 
tion, or gossiping friend, about whose safety they Vv^ere sohci- 
tous, or with whom they wished to compare notes about the 
late occurrences. 

Others, still more bold, assembled in little knots, in the 
streets and public places, as if to discuss the recent outrages 
ofiered to the commonwealth, and the atrocious murders of 
their fellow-burghers. 

We rose from the ground and moved forward, to take a 

nearer view of these public proceedings, when yelp ! yelp ! yelp ! 

- there was a shrill alarm passed from mouth to mouth ; the 

meetings suddenly dispersed ; feet twinkled in the air in every 

direction ; and in an instant all had vanished into the earth. 

The dusk of the evening put an end to our observations, but 
the train of whimsical comparisons produced in m7/ brain by 
the moral attributes which I had heard given to these little 
politic animals, still continued after my return to camp ; and 
late in the night, as I lay awake after all the camp was asleep. * 
and heard in the stillness of the hour, a faint clamor of shrill 
voices from the distant village, I could not help picturing to 
myself the inhabitants gathered together in noisy assemblage 
and windy debate, to devise plans for the public safety, and 
to vindicate the invaded rights and insulted dignity of the ro- 
X^ublic. 



3.24 ^ -^ TOUR ON THE PBAIRIES. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

A COUNCIL IN THE CAMP. —REASONS FOR FACING HOMEWARD. — 
HORSES LOST.— DEPARTURE WITH A DETACHMENT ON THE 
HOMEWARD ROUTE. — SWAMP. — WILD HORSE. — CAMP SCENES BY 
NIGHT. — THE OWL, HARBINGER OF DAWN. 

While breakfast was preparing, a council was held as to our 
future movements. Symptoms of discontent had appeared for 
a day or two past among the rangers, most of whom, unaccus- 
tomed to the life of the prairies, had become impatient of its 
privations, as well as the restraints of the camp. The want of 
bread had been felt severely, and they were wearied with con- 
stant travel. In fact, the novelty and excitement of the expe- 
dition were at an end. They had hunted the deer, the bear, the 
elk, the buffalo, and the wild horse, and had no further object 
of leading interest to look forward to. A general inclination 
prevailed, therefore, to turn homeward. 

Grave reasons disposed the Captain and his officers to adopt 
this resolution. Our horses were generally much jaded by the 
fatigues of travelling and hunting, and had fallen awa}^ sadly 
for want of good pasturage, and from being tethered at night, 
to protect them from Indian depredations. The late rains, too. 
seemed to have washed away the nourishment from the scanty 
hei'bage that remained : and since our encampment during the 
storm, oiu' horses had lost flesh and strength rapidly. With 
every possible care, horses, accustomed to grain, and to the 
regular and plentiful nourishment of the stable and the farm, 
lose heart and condition in travelling on the prairies. In all 
expeditions of the kind we were engaged in, the hardy Indian 
horses, which are generally mustangs, or a cross of the wild 
breed, are to be preferred. They can stand all fatigues, hard- 
^nips, and privations, and thrive on the grasses and the wild 
herbage of the j^lains. 

Our men, too, had acted with Mttle forethought ; galloping oif 
whenever they had a chance, after the game that we encoun- 
tered while on the march. In this way they had strained and 
wearied their horses, instead of husbanding their strength and 
spirits. On a tour of the kind, horses should as seldom as pos- 
sible be put off of a. quiet walk ; and the average day's journey 
should not exceed ten miles. 

We had hoped, by pushing forward, to reach the bottoms of 



A TOUR OIs THE PRAIRIES. 125 

the Red River, which abound with young cane, a most nourish- 
ing forage for cattle at this season of the year. It would now 
(take us several days to arrive there, and in the meantime 
many of our horses would probably give out. It v>ras the time, 
too, when the hunting parties of Indians set lire to the prairies ; 
the herbage, throughout this part of the country, was in that 
parched state, favorable to combustion, and there was daily 
more and more risk that the prairies between us and the fort 
would be set on fire by some of the return parties of Osages, 
and a scorched desert left for us to traverse. In a word, we 
had started too late in the season, or loitered too much in the 
earl}' part of our march, to accomphsh our originally intended 
tour ; and there was imminent hazard, if we continued on, that 
vre should lose the greater part of our horses; and, besides 
suffering various other inconveniences, be obliged to return 
on foot. It was determined, therefore, to give up all further 
progress, and, turning our faces to the southeast, to make the 
best of our v^^ay back to Fort Gibson. 

This resolution being taken, there was an immediate eagerness 
to put it into operation. Several horses, however, were miss- 
ing, and among others tliose of the Captain and the Surgeon. 
Pereons had gone in search of them, but the morning advanced 
without any tidings of them. Our party, in the meantime, 
being all ready for a march, the Commissionor determined to 
set off in the advance, with his original escort of a lieutenant 
and fourteen rangers, leaving the Captain to com.e on at his 
convenience, with the main body. At ten o'clock we accord- 
ingly started, under the guidance of Beatte, who had hunted 
over this part of the coimtry, and knew the direct route to the 
garrison. 

For some distance vv^e skirted the prairie, keeping a south- 
east direction : and in the course of our ride we saw a variety' 
of wild animiijs, deer, white and black wolves, buffaloes, and 
wild horses. To the latter, our half-breeds and Tonish gave 
ineffectual chase, only serving to add to the weariness of their 
already jaded steeds. Indeed it is rarely that any but the 
weaker and least fleet of the wild horses are taken in these hard 
racings ; while the horse of the huntsman is prone to be knocked 
up. Tlie latter, in fact, risks a good horse to catch a bad one. 
On this occasion, Tonish, who was a perfect imp on horseback, 
and noted for ruining every animal he bestrode, succeeded in 
laming and almost disabling the powerful gray on which we 
had mounted him at the outset of our tour. 



12G ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

After proceeding a few miles, we left the prairie, and stirick 
to the east, taking what Beatte pronounced an old Osage war- 
track. This led us through a rugged tract of country, over- 
grown with scrubhed forests and entangled tliickets, and 
intersected by deep ravines, and brisk-running streams, the 
sources of Little River. About three o'clock, we encamped by 
some pools of water in a small valley, having come about four- 
teen miles. We had brought on a supply of provisions from 
our last camp, and supped heartily upon stevv^ed buffalo meat, 
roasted venison, beignets, or fritters of fiour fried in bear's lard, 
and tea made of a species of the golden-rod, which we had 
found, throughout our whole route, ahnost as grateful a beve- 
rage as coffee. Indeed our coffee, which, as long as it held out, 
had been served up with every meal, according to the custom 
of the West, was by no means a beverage to boast of. It was 
roasted in a frying-pan, without m±uch care, pounded in a 
leathern bag, w^ith a round stone, and boiled in our prime and 
almost only kitchen utensil, the camp kettle, in ' ' branch" or 
brook water ; which, on the prairies, is deeply colored by the 
soil, of which it always holds abundant particles in a state of 
solution and suspension. In fact, in the course of our tour, we 
had tasted the quality of every variety of soil, and the draughts 
of water we had taken might vie in diversity of color, if not of 
flavor, with the tinctures of an apothecary's shop. Pure, 
limpid water is a rare luxury on the prairies, at least at this 
season of the year. Supper over, we placed sentinels about our 
scanty and diminished camp, spread our skins and blankets 
under the trees, now nearly destitute of foliage, and slept 
soundly until morning. 

We had a beautiful daybreak. The camp again resounded 
with cheerful voices; every one was animated with the 
thoughts of soon being at the fort, and revelling on bread and 
vegetables. Even our saturnine ma-n, Beatte, seemed inspired 
on this occasion ; and as he drove up the horses for the march, 
I heard him singing, in nasal tones, a most forlorn Indian 
dittj^. All this transient gayety, however, soon died away 
amidst the fatigues of our march, which lay through the same 
kind of rough, hilly, thicketed countr37 as that of 3'esterday. 
In the course of the morning we arrived at the valley of the 
Little Eiver, where it wound through a broad bottom of allu- 
vial soil. At present it had overflowed its banks, and inun- 
dated a great part of the valley. The difficulty was to distin- 
guish the stream from the broad sheets of water it had formed, 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 127 

and to find a place where it might be forded ; for it was in 
general deep and miry, with abrupt crumbling banks. Under 
the pilotage of Beatte, therefore, we wandered for some time 
among the links made by tliis winding stream, in what ap- 
peared to us a trackless labyrinth of swamps, thickets, and 
standing pools. Sometimes our jaded horses dragged their 
limbs forward with the utmost difficulty, having to toil for a 
great distance, with the water up to the stirrups, and beset at 
the bottom with roots and creeping plants. Sometimes we 
had to force our way through dense thickets of brambles and 
grapevines, which almost pulled us out of our saddles. In one 
place, one of the pack-horses sunk in the mire and fell on his 
side, so as to be extricated with great difficulty. Wherever 
the soil was bare, or there was a sand-bank, we beheld in- 
numerable tracks of bears, wolves, wild horses, turkeys, and 
water-fowl: showing the abundant sport this valley might 
afford to the huntsman. Our men, however, were sated with 
hunting, and too weary to be excited by these signs, which in 
"the outset of our tour would have put them in a fever of antici- 
pation. Their only desire, at present, was to push on doggedly 
•^'or the fortress. 

At length we succeeded in finding a fording place, where we 
iiii crossed Little River, with the water and mire to the saddle- 
girths, and then halted for an hour and a half, to overhaul the 
wet baggage, and give the horses time to rest. 

On resuming our march, we came to a pleasant little mea- 
dow, surrounded by groves of elms and cottonwood trees, in 
the midst of which was a fine black horse grazing. Beatte, 
who vv^as in the advance, beckoned us to halt, and, being 
mounted on a mare, approached the horse gently, step by step, 
imitating the whinny of the animal with admirable exactness. 
The noble courser of the prairie gazed for a time, snuffed the 
air, neighed, pricked up his ears, and pranced round and round 
the mare in gallant style ; but kept at too great a distance for 
Beatte to throw the lariat. He was a magnificent object, in 
all the pride and glory of his nature. It was admirable to see 
the lofty and airy carriage of his head ; the freedom of every 
movement; the elasticity with which he trod the meadow. 
Finding it hnpossible to get within noosing distance, and seeing 
that the horse was receding and growing alarmed, Beatte slid 
down from his saddle, levelled his rifle across the back of his 
mare, and took aim, with the evident intention of creasing 
him. I felt a throb of anxiety for the safetj^ of the noble ani- 



128 ^ TOUR ON THE PRAIIilES. 

nial, and called out to Beatte to desist. It was too late; ho 
pulled the trigger as I spoke; luckily he did not shoot with 
his usual accuracy, and I had the satisfaction to see the coal- 
black steed dash ofl: unharmed into the forest. 

On leaving tiiis valley, we a,scended among broken hills and 
i-tigged, ragged forests, equally harassing to horse and rider. 
The ravines, too, were of red clay, and often so steep that, in 
descending, the horses v/ould put their feet together and fahiy 
slide down, and then scramble up the opposite side like cats. 
Here and there, among the thickets in the valleys, w© met with 
sloes aiid persimmon, and the eagerness with which our men 
broke from the line of march, and ra,n to gather these poor 
fruits, showed how much they craved some vegetable condi- 
ment, after living so long exclusively on animal food. 

About half past three we encamped near a brook in a mea- 
dovv , where there was some scanty herbage for our half -fam- 
ished horses. As Beatte had killed a fat doe in the course ot 
the day, and one of our company a fine turkey, we did not lack 
for provisions. 

It was a splendid autumnal evening. The horizon, after 
sunset, was of a clear apple green, rising into a delicate kike 
which gradually lost itself in a deep purple blue. One narrow 
streak of cloud, of a mahogany color, edged ^nth amber and 
gold, floated in the west, and just beneath it was the evening 
star, shining with the pure brilliancy of a, diamond. In unison 
with this scene, there was an evening concert of insects of 
various kinds, all blended and harmonized into one sober and 
somewhat melancholy note, which I have always found to 
have a sootihing effect upon the mind, disposing it to quiet 
musings. 

The night that succeeded vv^as calm and beautiful. There 
was a faint light from the moon, now in its second quarter, 
and after it had set, a fine starlight, with shooting meteors. 
The wearied rangers, after a little murmuring conversation 
round their fires, sank to rest at an early hour, and I seemed 
to have the whole scene to myself. It is delightful, in thus 
bivouacking on the prairies, to lie awake and gaze at the stars ; 
it is like watching them from the deck of a ship at sea, when 
at one view we have the whole cope of heaven. One realizes, 
in such lonely scenes, that companionship with these beautiful 
luminaries which made astronomers of the eastern shepherds, 
as they watched their flocks by night. How often, while con- 
templating their mild and be^iignant radiance, I have called to 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 129 

iiiiad the exquisite text of Job : ' ' Canst thou bind the secret 
iufiuences of tiie Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion?" I do 
not know why it was, but I felt this night unusually affected 
by the solemn magnificence of the firmament ; and seemed, as 
I lay thus under the open vault of hea,ven, to inhale with the 
pure untainted air, an exhilara-ting buoyancy of spirit, and, as it 
were, an ecstasy of mind. I slept and waked alternately ; and 
when I slept, my dreams partook of the happy tone of my 
w; iking reveries. ToYv^a.rd morning, one of the sentinels, the 
oldest man in the troop, came and took a seat near me ; he 
was weary and sleepy, and impatient to be relieved. I found 
he had been gazing at the heavens also, but with different 
"feelings." 

"If the stars don't deceive me," said he, "it is near day- 
break." 

" There can be no doubt of that," said Beatte, who lay close 
by. '"I heard an owl just now." 

'•' Does the ov/1, then, hoot toward daybreak?" asked I. 
. " Aye, sir, just as the cock crows." 

This was a useful habitude of the bird of wisdom, of which 
I was not aware. Neither the stars nor owl deceived their 
votaries. In a short time there Y/as a faint streak of light in 
the east. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

OLD CREEK ENCAMPMENT. — SCARCITY OP PROVISIONS.— BAD 
WEATHER. — VfEARY MARCHING.— A HUNTER'S BRIDGE. 

The country through which we passed this morning (Novem- 
ber 2d), Avas less rugged, and of more agreeable aspect than 
that we had lately traversed. At eleven o'clock, v/e came out 
upon an extensive prairie, and about six miles to our left be- 
held a long line of gi-een forest, marking the course of the 
north fork of the Arkansas. On the edge of the prairie, and 
in a spacious grove of noble trees which overshadowed a small 
brook, were the traces of an old Creek hunting camp. On the 
bark of tlie trees were rude delmeations of hunters and . >.j[uaws, 
scrawled with charcoal ; together with various signs and hiero- 
glyphics, which our half-breeds interpreted as indicating that 
from this encampment the hunters had returned home. 



1/ 



130 -4 TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

In this beautiful camping ground we made our mid-day halt. 
While reposing under the trees, we heard a shouting at no 
great distance, and presently the Captain and the main body 
of rangers, whom, we had left behind two days since, emerged 
from the thickets, and crossing the brook, were joyfully wel- 
comed into the camp. The Captain and the Doctor had been 
unsuccessful in the search after their horses, and were obhged 
to march for the greater i^art of the time on foot ; yet they had 
come on with more than ordinary speed. 

We resumed our march about one o'clock, keeping easterly, 
and approaching the north fork obhquely ; it was late before 
we found a good camping place ; the beds of the streams were 
dry, the pi-airies, too, had been burnt in various places, by 
Indian hunting parties. At length we found water in a small 
ahuvial bottom, where there was tolerable pasturage. 

On the following morning there were flashes of hghtning in 
the east, with low, rumbling thunder, and clouds began to 
gather about the horizon. JBeatte prognosticated rain, and 
that the wind would veer to the north. In the course of our 
march, a flock of brant were seen overhead, flying from the 
north. "There comes the wind!" said Beatte; and, in fact, it 
began to blow from that (uiarter almost immediately, with 
occasional flurries of rain. About half past nine o'clock, we 
forded the north fork of the Canadian, and encamped about 
one, that our hunters might have time to beat up the neigh- 
borhood for game : for a serious scarcity began to prevail in 
the camj). Most ol the rangers were young, heedless, and 
inexperienced, and could not be prevailed upon, while pro- 
visions abounded, to provide for the future, by jerking meat, 
or carry away any on their horses. On leaving an encamp- 
ment, they would leave quantities of meat lymg about, trust- 
ing to Providence and their rifles for a future supply. The 
consequence was, that any temporary scarcity of game, or 
ill-luck in hunting, produced almost a famine in the camp. 
In the present instance, they had left loads of buffalo meat at 
the camp on the great prairie ; and, having ever since been on 
a forced march, leaving no time for limiting, they were now 
destitute of supi:)lies, and pinched with hunger. Some had not 
eaten anything since the morning of the preceding day. 
Nothing would have persuaded them, when revelhng in the 
abundance of the buffalo encampment, that they would so 
soon be in such famishing plight. 

The hunters returned with indifferent success. The game 



A TOUR 02s THE FEAIRIES. 131 

had been frightened away from this part of the country by 
Indian hunting parties, which had preceded us. Ten or a 
dozen wild turkeys were brought in, but not a deer had been 
seen. The rangers began to think turkeys and even prairie- 
hens deserving of attention; game which they had hitherto 
considered unworthy of their rifles. 

The night was cold and windy, with occasional sprinkhngs 
of rain ; but we had roaring fires to keep us comfortable. In 
the night, a flight of wild geese passed over the camp, making 
a great cackling in the air ; symptoms of approaching winter. 

We set forward at an early hour the next morning, in a 
northeast course, and came upon the trace of a party of Creek 
Indians, which enabled our poor horses to travel with more 
ease. We entered upon a fine champaign country. From a ris- 
ing ground we had a noble prospect, over extensive prairies, 
finely diversified by 'groves and tracts of woodland, and 
bounded by long hnes of distant hiUs, all clothed with the 
rich mellow tmts of autumn. Game, too, v/as more plenty. 
A fine buck sprang up from among the herbage on our right, 
and dashed off at full speed ; but a young ranger by the name 
of Childers, who was on foot, levelled his rifle, discharged a 
bail that broke the neck of the bounding deer, and sent him 
tumbling head over heels forward. Another buck and a doe, 
besides several turkeys, were killed before we came to a halt, 
so that the hungry mouths of the troop were once more sup- 
phed. 

About three o'clock we encamped in a grove after a forced 
r:arch of twenty-five miles, that had proved a hard trial to 
the horses. For a long time after the head of the line had 
encamped, 1 he rest kept straggling in, two and three at a time ; 
one of our pack-horses had given out, about nine miles back, 
and a pony belonging to Beatte, shortly after. Many of the 
other horses looked so gaunt and feeble, that doubts were 
entertained of their being able to reach the fort. In the night 
there was heavy rain, and the morning dawned cloudy and 
dismal. The camp resounded, however, with something of its 
fomier gayety. The rangers had supped weU, and were reno- 
vated in spirits, anticipating a speedy arrival at the garrison. 
Before we set forward on our march, Beatte returned, and 
brought his pony to the camp with great difficulty. The 
pack-horse, however, was completely knocked up and had to 
be abandoned. The wild mare, to, had cast her foal, through 
exhaustion, and was not in a state to go forward. She and 



133 ^ TOUR ON THE PllAIRIES. 

the pony, therefore, were left at this encampment, where 
there was water and good pasturage ; and where there would 
be a chance of their reviving, and being afterward sought 
out and brought to the garrison. 

We set off about eight o^clock, and had a day of weary and 
harassing travel ; part of the time over rough hills, and part 
over rolhng prairies. The rain had rendered tli'^ soil slippery 
and plashy, so as to afford unsteady foothold. Some of the 
rangers dismounted, their horses having no longer strength to 
bear them. We made a halt in the course of the morning, but"' 
the horses were too tired lo graze. Several of them lay down, 
and there was some difficulty in getting them on theii* feet 
again. Our troop presented a forlorn appearance, stra.ggling 
slowly along, in a broken and scattered line, that extended 
over hill and dale, for three miles and upward, in groups of 
three and four, widely aimrt; some on horseback, some on 
foot, with a few laggards far in the rear. About f#ur o'clock, 
we halted for the night in a spacious forest, beside a deep nar- 
roAY river, called the Little North Fork, or Deep Creek. It 
was late before the main part of the troop straggled into tiie 
encampment, many of the horses having given out. As this 
stream was too deep to be forded, we Avaited until the next 
day to devise means to cross it ; but our half-breeds swam the 
horsGiS of our party to the other side in the evening, as they 
would have better pasturage, and the stream was evidently 
swelling. Tlie night was cold and unruly ; the wind sounding 
hoarsely through the forest and whirling about the dry leaves. 
We made long fires of great trunks of trees, which diffused 
something of consolation if not cheerfulness around. 

The next morning tiiere was general permission given to 
hunt until twelve o'clock ; the camp being destitute of provi- 
sions. The rich woody bottom in which we were encamped 
abounded with wild turkeys, of which a considerable number 
were killed. In the meantime, preparations were made for 
crossing the liver, which had risen several feet during the 
night ; and it was determined to feU trees for the purpose, to 
serve -iis bridges. 

The Captain and Doctor, and one or two other leaders of 
the camp, versed in woodcraft, examined, with learned eye, 
the trees growing on the river bank, until they singled out a 
couple of the largest size, and most suitable inclinations. The 
axe was then vigorously applied to their roots, in such a way 
as to insure their falling directly across the stream. As they 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 133 

did not reach to the opposite bank, it wa.s necessary for some 
of the men to swim across and fell trees on the othei' side, to 
meet them. They at length succeeded in making a precarious 
footway across the deep and rapid current, by which the bag- 
gage could be carried over ; but it was necessary to grope our 
way, step by step, along the trunks and main branches of the 
trees, which for a part of the distance were completely sub- 
merged, so that we were to our waists in water. Most of the 
horses were then swam across, but some of them were too 
v/eak to brave the current, and evidently too much knocked 
up to bear any further travel. Twelve men, therefore, were 
left at the encampment to guard these horses, until, by repose 
and good pasturage, they should be sufficiently recovered to 
complete their journey ; and the Captain engaged to send the 
men a supply of flour and other necessaries, as soon as w© 
should arrive at the fort. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 



A LOOK-OUT FOR LAND.— HARD TRAVELLING AND HUNGRY HALT- 
ING. — A FRONTIER FARMHOUSE. — ARRIVAL AT THE GARRISON. 

It was a Uttle after one o'clock when we again resumed our 
weary wayfaring. The residue of that day and the whole of 
the next were spent in toilsome travel. Part of the way was 
over stony hills, part across wide prairies, rendered spongy 
and miry by the recent rain, and cut up by brooks swollen into 
torrents. Our poor horses were so feeble, that it was with 
difficulty vv e could get them across the deep ravines and turbu- 
lent streams. In traversing the miry plains, they slipped and 
staggered at every step, and most of us were obliged to dis- 
mount and walk for the greater part of the Avay. Hunger pre- 
vailed throughout the troop ; every one began to look anxious 
and ]-aggard, and to feel the growling length of each ac'ditional 
•nile. At one time, in crossing a hill, Beatte climbed , high 
tree, ccnrmanding a wide prospect, and took a look-out. like a 
mariner from the mast-head at sea. He came down wilh 
cheering tidings. To the left he had beheld a line of forest 
stretching across t le country, which he knew to be the woody 
border of the Arkansas ; and at a distance he had recognized 



134 A TOUR ON THE PBAIEIES. 

certain landmarks, from which he concluded tliat we could 
not be abgve forty miles distant from the fort. It was like the 
welcome cry of land to tempest-tossed mariners. 

In fact we soon after saw smoke rising from a woody glen at 
a distance. It was supposed to be made by a hunting-party of 
Creek or Osage Indians from the neighborhood of the fort, 
and was joyfully hailed as a harbinger of man. It was now 
confidently hoped that we would soon arrive among the fron- 
tier hamlets of Creek Indians, which are scattered along the 
skirts of the uninhabited wilderness ; and our hungry rangers 
trudged forward with reviving spirit, regaling themselves 
with savory anticipations of farmhouse luxuries, and enume- 
rating every article of good cheer, until their mouths fairly 
watered at the shadowy feasts thus conjured up. 

A hungry night, however, closed in upon a toilsome day. 
We encamped on the border of one of the tributary streams of 
the Arkansas, amidst the ruins of a stately grove that had 
been riven by a hurricane. The blast had torn its way through 
the forest in a narrow column, and its course was marked by 
enormous trees shivered- and splintered, and upturned, with 
their roots in the air ; aU lay in one direction, hke zo many 
britile reeds broken and trodden down by the hunter. 

Here was fuel in abundance, without the labor of the axe ; 
we had soon immense fires blazing and sparkling in the frosty 
air, and lighting up the whole forest; but, alas! we had no 
meat to cook at them. The scarcity iu the camp almost 
amounted to famine. Happy was he who had a morsel of 
jerked meat, or even the half -picked bones of a former repast. 
For our part, we were more lucky at our mess than our neigh- 
bors ; one of our men having shot a turkey. We had no bread 
to eat with it, nor salt to season it withal. It was simply 
boiled in water ; the latter was served up as soup, and we were 
fain to rub each morsel of the turkey on the empty salt-bag, 
in hopes some sahne particle might remain to relieve its iu- 
sipidity. 

The night was biting cold ; the brilliant moonlight sparkled 
on the frosty crystals which covered every object aroimd us. 
The water froze beside the skins on which we bivouacked, and 
in the morning I found the blanket in which I was wrapped 
covered wioL a hoar frost; yet I had never slept more com- 
fortably. 

After a r'^-^iowof a breakfast, ^.-onsisting of turkey bones 

A a cup of coffee without sugai. we decamped at an early 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 135 

hour; for hunger is a sharp quickener on a -journey. The 
prairies were all genuned with frost, that covered the tall 
weeds and ghstened in the sun. We saw great flights of 
prairie-hens, or grouse, that hovered from tree to tree, or sat 
in rows along the naked branches, waiting until the sun should 
melt the frost from the weeds and herbage. Our rangers no 
longer despised such hmnble game, but turned from the ranks 
in pursuit of a prairie-hen as eagerly as they formerly would 
go in pursuit of a deer. 

Every one now pushed forward, anxious to arrive at some 
human habitation before night. The poor horses were urged 
beyond their strength, in the thought of soon being able to 
indemnify them for present toil, by rest and ample provender. 
Still the distances seemed to stretch out more than ever, and 
the blue hills, pointed out as landmarks on the horizon, to 
recede as we advanced. Every step became a labor; every 
now and then a miserable horse would give out and he down. 
His owner would raise him by main strength, force him for- 
ward to the margin of some stream, where there- might be a 
scanty border of herbage, and then abandon him to Ms fate. 
Among those that were thus left on the way, was one of the 
led horses of the Count ; a prime hunter, that had takeif' the 
lead of every thing in the chase of the wild horses. It was 
intended, however, as soon as we should arrive at the fort, to 
send out a party provided with corn, to bring in such of the 
horses as should survive. 

In the course of the morning, we came upon Indian tracks, 
crossing each other in various directions, a i^roof that we must 
be in the neighborhood of human habitations. At length, on 
passing through a skirt of wood, we beheld two or three log 
houses, sheltered under lofty trees on the border of a prairie, 
the habitations of Creek Indians, who had small farms adja- 
cent. Had they been sumptuous villas, abounding with the 
luxuries of civilization, they could not have been hailed with 
gi^eater delight. 

Some of the rangers rode up to them in quest of food ; the 
greater part, however, pushed forward in search of the habita- 
tion of a white settler, which we were told was at no great dis- 
tance. The troop soon disappeared among the trees, and I 
followed slowly in their track ; for my once fleet and generous 
steed faltered under me, and was just able to drag one foot 
after the other, yet I was too weary and exhausted to spare him. 

In this way we crept on, until, on turning a thick clump of 



136 A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. 

trees, a frontier farmhouse suddenly presented itself to view. 
It was a low tenement of logs, overshadowed by great forest 
trees, but it seemed as if a very region of Cocaigne prevailed 
ai'ound it. Here was a stable and barn, and granaries teem- 
ing with abundance, while legions of grunting swine, gobbling 
turkeys, cackling hens and strutting roosters, swarmed about 
the farmyard. 

My poor jaded and half -famished horse raised his head and 
pricked up his ears at the well-known sights and sounds. He 
gave a chuckling inward sound, something hke a dry laugh ; 
wliisked his tail, and made great leeway toward a corn-crib, 
filled with golden ears of maize, and it was with some difficulty 
that I could control his course, and steer him up to the door 
of the cabin. A single glance within was sufficient to raise 
every gastronomic faculty. There sat the Captain of the 
rangers and his officers, round a three-legged table, crowned 
by a broad and smoking dish of boiled beef and turnips. I 
spi'ang off my horse in an instant, cast him loose to make his 
way to the corn-crib, and entered this palace of plenty. A fat 
good-humored negress received me at the door. She was the 
mistress of the house, the spouse of the white man, who was 
absent. I hailed her as some swart fairy of the wild, that had 
suddenly conjured up a banquet in the desert ; and a banquet 
was it in good sooth. In a twinkling, she lugged from the fire 
a huge iron pot, that might have rivalled one of the famous 
flesh-pots of Egypt, or the witches' caldron in Macbeth. 
Placing a brown earthen dish on the floor, she inclined the 
corpulent caldron on one side, and out leaped sundry great 
morsels of beef, with a regiment of turnips tumbling after 
them, and a rich cascade of broth overflowing the whole. 
This she handed me with an ivory smile that extended from 
ear to ear; apologizing for our humble fare, and the humble 
style in which it was served up. Humble fare ! humble style ! 
Boiled beef and turnips, and an earthen dish to eat them from ! 
To think of apologizing for such a treat to a half-starved man 
from the prau'ies; and then such magnificent shoes of bread 
and butter ! Head of Apicius, what a banquet ! 

"The rage of hunger" being appeased, I began to think of 
my horse. He, however, like an old campaigner, had taken 
good care of himself. I found hun paying assiduous attention 
to the crib of Indian com, and dexterously drawing forth and 
munching the ears that protruded between the bars. It was 
"With great regret that I interrupted his repast, which he 



A TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES. I37 

abandoned with a heavy sigh, or rather a rumbhng groan. I 
was anxious, however, to rejoin my travelUng companions, 
T\^ho had passed by the farmhouse without stopping, and pro- 
ceeded to the banks of the Arkansas ; being in hopes of arriv- 
ing before night at the Osage Agency. Leaving the Captain 
and his troop, therefore, amidst the abundance of the farm, 
v.here they had determined to quarter themselves for the night, 
I bade adieu to our sable hostess, and again pushed forward. 

A ride of about a mile brought me to where my comrades 
•,rere waiting on the banks of the Arkansas, which here poured 
along between beautiful forests. A number of Creek Indians, 
ill their brightly colored dresses, looking like so many gay 
tropical birds, were busy aidmg our men to transport the bag- 
gage across the river in a canoe. While this was doing, our 
horses had anotliei regale from two great cribs heaped up 
with ears of Indian corn, which stood near the edge of the 
river. We had to keep a check upon the poor half -famished 
animals, lest they should injure themselves by their voracity. 

The baggage being all carried to the opposite bank, we em- 
barked in the canoe, and swam our horses across the river. I 
was fearful, lest in their enfeebled state, they should not be 
a,ble to stem the current ; but their banquet of Indian corn had 
pJready infu ed fresh life and spirit into them, and it would 
appear as if they w^ere cheered by the instinctive conscious- 
ness of their approach to home, where they would soon be at 
r :t, and in plentiful quarters ; foi no sooner had we landed 
and resumed our route, than they set off on a hand-gallop, and 
continued so for a great part of seven miles, that we had to 
ride through the woods. 

It was an -earlj^ hour in the evening when we arrived at the 
Agency, on the banks of the Verdigris Eiver, whence we had 
set off about a month before. Here we passed the night com- 
fortably quartered; yet, atter having been accustomed tc 
sleep in the open air. the confinement of a chamber was, in 
some respects, irksome. The atmosphere seemed close, and 
destitute of freshness; and when I woke m the night and 
gazed about me upon complete darkness, I missed the glorious 
companionsliip of the stars. 

The next morning, after breakfast, I agam set forward, in 

anpany with the worthy Commissioner, for Fort Gibson, 
yAiqyq Ave arrived much tattered, travel-stained, and weather- 
beaten, but in high health and spirits;- and thus ended my 
foray mto the Pawnee Hunting Grounds. 



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M U A mh el A SSTisrSth st.,N.Y. 



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.■■t^»r-'-r>.'mtuu-*^v'f-^^^^g','> 



/LOVELL'SILIBRARYl-CATALOGUE. 



i 118/ More Words About the Bible, 

>> '.' by Rev. Jas. S. Bush 

" 114. TVfoTipieur Lecoq, Gaboriau Pt. I. . 

^•x*- fMongieur Lecoq, Pt. II 

, 115. An Outline of Irish History, by 

>> Justin H. McCarthy 

? 116. TheLerouge Case, by Gaboriau.. 
• 117. Paul Clifford, by Lord Lytton. . 
'i 118. A New Lease of Life, by About. . 

?;119. Bourbon Lilies 

a 120. Other People's Money, Gaboriau, 
;, 121. The Lady of Lyons, Lytton... 

122. Ameline de Bourg 

123. A Sea Qneen, by W. Russell 

1 124. The Ladies Lindores, by Mrs. 

h Oliphant 

^ 125. Haunted Hearts, by Simpson. ... 

■"^''. Lojs, Lord Bereeford, by The 

Duchess ...J... 

. Under T-.vo Flags, Ouida, Pt. I. . 

5».' Under Two xi'ings, Pt. II 

/ 128. Money, by Lord Lytton 

129. In Peril of His Life, by Gaboriau, 

\- 180. India, bv Max Miiller..,, 

: 131. Jets and Flashes 

1?2. Moonshine and Marguerites, by 

The Duchess 

"^ Mr. Scarborough's Familv, by 

Anthony Troliope, Part I 

■ Mr. Scarborough's Family, Pt II. 

134. Arden, by A. Mary F. Robinsoa, 

135. Tiie Tower of Percemont 

136. Yolande, by Wm. Black 

137. Cruel London, by Joseph Hatton. 

138. The Gilded Cliqne, bvG8borir.u. 
' 139. Pike County Folk?, E. H. Mott. . 

■ 1-10. Cricket on the Hearth 

, 141. Henry Esmond, by Thackeray.. 
. 142. Strange Adventures of a Phae- 

?i ton, by Wm. Black 

{ 143. Denis Duval, by Thackeray 

1 144. Old Curiosity Shop,Dickens,PtT. 

Old Curiosity Shop, Part II. . . . 

Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part I. 

Ivanhoe, by Scott, Part II 

Whit* Wings, by Wm. Black.. 

The Sketch Book, by Irvinix , 

143. Catherine, by W. M. Thackeray 
149. Janet's Repentance, by Eliot... 
160. Barnaby Eudge, Dickens, Pt I. . 

Barnaby Rudge, Part II 

151. Felix Holt, by George Eliot. . , . 

152. Richel ieu, by Lord Lvtton 

153. Sunrise, by Wm. Rlack, Parti.. 
Sunripe by Wm. Black. Part 11. 

154. Tour of the World in 80 Days.. 

155. Myrtery of Orcival. Gaboriau.... 
Lovel, the Widower, by W. M* 

Thackeray 

Romantic Adventures of « Milk 

maid, by Thomas Hardr 

David Copperfield, Dickens, Pt I 
David Copperfield. }'art II 

160. Rienzi, by Lord Lvtton, Parti. . 
Rienzi, by Lord Lytton. Part II. 

161. Promise of Marriage, Gaboriau 

162. Faith and Unfaith, bjr The 

Duchesi 



145 

ri46 

147 



156. 
157. 
158. 



1 163. The Happy Man, by Lover,.. 10 
20 164. Barry Lyndon, by Thackeray. ...20 

20 IG.'S. Eyre's Acquittal 10 

20 160. Twen'^y Thou!=aiid Leagues Un- 
der the S'a, by Jules Verne 20 

10 1C7. Anti-Slavery Days, by James 

20 Freeman Clarke 20 

20 1G8. Beauty's Daughters, by The 

20 Ducheps 20 

20 169. Be>onrl the Sunrit^e 20 

20 170. Hard Time.s, by Charles Dickens.20 
10 171. Tom Cringle's Log. bv M.Scott.. 20 
15 173. Vanity Fair, by W .M.Thackeray.20 
20 173, Underground Russia, Stepniak..20 

174. Middlemarch, by Elliot, Pt I.... 20 

20 Middlemarch, Part II 20 

10 175 SirTom, by Mrs. Oliphant 20 

176 Pelham, by Lord Lytton.... . ..20 

20 177. The Story of Ida 10 

15 178. Madcap Violet, by Wm. Black. .20 

15 179. The Little Pilgrim , 10 

10 180. Kilmeny, by Wm. Black 20 

.20 181. Whist, or Bumblepuppy? 10 

20 182. TheBeautifui Wretch, Black.... 20 
20 183. Her Mother's Sin, by B. M. Clay.20 

184. Green Pastures and Piccadilly, 
10 by Wm.Biack 20 

185. The Mysterioua Island, by Jules 

15 Verne, Parti 15 

,15 The Mysterious Island, Part II. . 15 

,15 The Mysterious Island, Part III. 15 

20 186. Tom Brewn at Oxford, Part I ... 15 
20 Tom Brown at Cxi -rd, Part II. . 15 

,20 187. Thicker than Wii ir, bv J. Fayn.20 
•20 18S. In Silk Attire, by Wm! Black. . .20 
20 189. Scottish Chief , Jane Porter,Pt.L20 

10 Scottish Chiefs, Part II 20 

20 190. Willy Reilly, by Will Carleton. .20 

191. The Nautz Familv, by Shelley .20 
20 192. Great Expectations, by Dicken8.20 
10 193. Pendenni8,by Thackeray, Part 1.20 
15 I Pendennis, by Thackeray ,PartII. 20 

15 I 194. Widow Bedott Papers 20 

15 I 195. Daniel Deronda,Geo. Ellot,Pt. 1.20 

15 i Daniel Deronda, Part II 20 

20 I 196. AltioraPeto, by Oliphant 20 

20 197. Bv the Gate of the Sea, by David 

10 Christie Murray 16 

10 198. Tales of a Traveller, by Irving, . .20 
15 199. Life and Voyages of Columbus, 
15 by Washin^'ton Irving, Part I. .20 

20 Lifeand Voyages of Columbus, 

10 by Washington Irving, Part 11.20 

15 200. The Pilgrim's Progreea 20 

15 201. Martin Chuzzlewit, by Charles 

20 Dickens, Parti , 20 

20 Martm Chuzzlewit. Part H 20 

202. Theophrastus Such. Geo. Eliot.. .20 
10 203. Disarmed, M. Betham-Edward«..15 

204. Eugene Aram, by Lord Lytton. 20 
10 205. The Spanish Gypsy and Other 

30 Poems, by George Eliot 20 

20 206, Cast Up by the Sea. Baker 20 

15 207. Mill on the Floss, Eliot, Pt. I. ..15 

15 Mill on the Floss, Part II 15 

10 908. Brother Jacob, and Mr. Gilfll'f 

Love Story, by George Eliot. . . 10 
SO ^ Wreck* in these* Of Life J80 




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